


Beauty Takes Many Forms

by hazel_lannister



Category: Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Beast has a dark past, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Graphic Description, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape, Rape Recovery, beastiality, like super dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 20:52:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 39,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14922647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazel_lannister/pseuds/hazel_lannister
Summary: After her father dies, Belle is left with the only choice of marrying Gaston, something she never would have thought possible. In an abusive marriage with the only solace of her secret books, Belle reaches her breaking point when a mysterious stranger walks into Gaston's bar and shows her that she deserves far better than her husband gave her, as she in turn shows the Beast that he too is worthy of love.Fluff, angst, and eventual smut, it's all here in this sappy romance.Warning: graphic rape described, if this is a trigger, please do not read.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> First work being posted to this site, it is posted on ff.net as well. Reviews always welcome, and chapters including rape will have warnings in the notes before. Story is finished, I am in the process of editing chapters so that is why they are not all up yet.

Oh, what a little town she lived in. A little town, with little people, with little meaning. It mattered not what one said or did, for everyday was the same as the last and everyone knew that the next would have the same story.

Belle couldn't stand it any more. She had never thought her life would come to this, married to a man she hated with her entire being.

She had always thought that if she did marry, if she did find someone who saw her as something more than the odd girl in the village, it would be for love. Though she had always doubted she would ever find such a man.

She had married Gaston for three reasons. Her father had passed away and she needed a source of income because she could not work, she grew tired of his unyielding requests and nagging, and because she was desperate for a change. Belle needed something to be different in her life. She had lived for five years in a town with nothing to look forward to but her books, and something had to be done.

In hopes that it would improve her life, Belle married Gaston with little forethought. Unfortunately, what she had hoped would bring her contentedness even though all logic screamed the opposite, the decision brought her much misery instead.

She had hoped the marriage to the most eligible bachelor in the town would cause the village to see her as something more than the strange, orphaned girl. She was horribly mistaken.

In hindsight, many of her hopes turned out to be incredibly false indeed.

Gaston would return to their home drunk, and sometimes even with another woman. He would kick Belle out, of course, on such occasions, but these nights were nothing compared to the others. Gaston at times would force himself onto Belle, holding her down with his powerful arms while he took his pleasure.

She remembered when she finally conceded to being his wife. He looked, handsome, as usual, and his arrogance was almost overwhelming. With the previous attempts to make Belle his wife, he at least had had the politeness to get down on one knee, but as she continued to say no, his requests became more and more like demands. When she finally said yes, it was because she had finally given up on trying to avoid him. The way Belle saw it was that she was simply prolonging the inevitable. So she gave in.

Belle caved, just as she would do for the many years to come as she attempted to please her husband.


	2. The Wedding Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this scene includes a graphic rape between Gaston and Belle, please do not read if that makes you uncomfortable in any way.

It's sad that people tend to remember the bad things more clearly than the good ones. Especially the things you would much rather forget... It remains in your mind, even after you forgive. Even when you try your utmost to dispel the horrid memories. But sometimes, to forget is a luxury.

Belle would never forget. Not until the day she died. Her first time would be branded forever into her mind, like the numbers they burn onto a horses hide. Time passes and they cease hurting, but you never stop seeing them and sometimes you can still feel the sting.

Belle had read books. She knew what romance was supposed to look like. When she was younger, she would picture a gentleman holding the door open and lending her his jacket, bringing flowers and chocolates... He would be kind, charming. He would be gentle.

She had often imagined what her future would look like. Fantasies of a dashing man that would sweep her off her feet and beg her to marry him would play in her mind when she was little, when she used to read the fairytales always with a happy ending. Or maybe he would recognize the title of the book Belle was reading and they would talk about it for hours on end and read to each other.

Belle's prince charming would slowly get down on one knee, pull out a small ring for her small finger, and ask her to make him the happiest man in the world. On their wedding night, he would worship her, enjoying every moment of the sweet passion they would share together.

Belle knew long before she married him that Gaston was not any of those things, but she had long since grown out of such unrealistic fantasies. Princes and charming men didn’t fall for the girl with her nose stuck in a book, the woman who was unafraid to speak her mind. They fell for the demure, housewife that would tend to the home. 

Or, in the case of Gaston, they broke the woman of her confidence and shoved and twisted her into the mold he wanted until she came out broken and misshapen. 

Belle's wedding night was unlike what she had imagined. The wedding was quick, congratulations being thrown at her by people she hardly recognized as well as the whispered murmurs of the guests.

"How could he choose that odd girl? He could have had any woman in the whole town and he chose the daughter of the crazy engineer?"

"The poor girl, he passed because of a malfunction with one of his machines, did he not?"

Belle had studiously ignored them, but that didn't make the sting any less sharp.

It only got worse from there. Gaston whisked Belle away as soon as he could, and quickly led her to his large chambers. Red silk curtains framed the massive bed and windows. Antlers of all sorts hung from every corner of the room. Belle felt incredibly stifled from the crowded room as well as the close proximity of her new husband.

Belle was briefly surprised he didn't feel lonely sleeping in such a large bed by himself before it occurred to her that most nights he probably didn't sleep alone, considering how many girls blushed and fluttered their long, made-up lashes whenever he approached. Yet Belle had been the lucky gal to win him in the end. And she was less than thrilled.

The door had barely closed behind the two newlyweds and Gaston was already trying to slip Belle from her dress. It was white and plain. She wore no veil, and had a bouquet made entirely of white roses.

Gaston began loosening Belle's tight corset, eventually giving up on trying to untie it and beginning to rip the fabric that stood between him and his ultimate goal. He tore the cloth in a swift motion and it pooled at her feet, the soft satin shining faintly in the soft light, and Belle was briefly struck by the picture of torn innocence on the floor around her.

Wearing nothing beneath the gown because Gaston had ripped her underclothes off as well, she felt incredibly vulnerable, bare and uncovered while Gaston hadn't so much as untied a shoe. His eyes roamed her body greedily, feeding off her modesty. Belle blushed deeply and covered herself up, causing Gaston's malicious grin to widen, chilling her to the bone. So Belle stood there with her wedding dress at her feet, naked as the day she was born, and awaiting what was to come with fear.

Goose flesh appeared on her arms at the sudden state of undress, though Belle knew not if it was from the sudden lack of clothing or her own trepidation.

Gaston undressed himself with surprising quickness and swooped in for the kill, like a hunter stalking his prey. His arousal was evident as it stuck up to his abs like an arrow. He had hair everywhere, even surrounding the iron member.

Belle stared at him with awe and fear, the picture of utter masculinity yet instead of the arousal she knew should boil her blood, ice ran through her veins, washing away the color from her cheeks and leaving pale terror in its wake.

Without warning, Gaston lifted Belle and half dropped, half threw her onto the bed. Belle, beginning to feel more and more nervous at his callous grin, attempted to move away from him, sliding up the bed towards the large mound of pillows. Gaston chuckled darkly, a horrible sound that only solidified her feelings of dread.

"Don't tell me this is your first time, Belle," he whispered menacingly. He didn't need to ask. He could see from the lack of knowledge for once in Belle's eyes that she was a virgin. 

Belle nodded shyly, even though she had no need to.

"Well, this will be fun, won't it," he mused, and again, Gaston laughed without humor.

In a flash, he was on top of her, kissing her roughly on the lips, on the neck, and down her body. His hands moved to her breasts, and he groaned at the sight. He squeezed and pinched them roughly before biting on their peaks. Belle cried out in pain and fear, pushing at his shoulders in the hopes he would release her.

She could feel his arousal pressing into her belly as he moved to between her legs, pressing his fingers against her mound. She tried to close her legs to stop the unwelcome touch but he easily kept them apart with his massive body.

Gaston inserted one of his fingers into her entrance and Belle yelped at the intrusion. Gaston roughly pushed two more into her and quickly pumped them, in and out. His throbbed against her, and she could tell he was beginning to lose patience. He adjusted himself on top of her, holding her down with his body weight and aligned himself to Belle's entrance.

"Wait, please Gaston. I don't think I'm ready yet."

"Oh, you will be," he replied, and with one swift motion, he entered her forcefully. Belle's cry of pain was instantaneous, but did little to stop him. She begged for him to stop, pushing and beating her fists against his chest, but she was no match for him. 

Irritated, Gaston grabbed both of Belle's arms in one hand and held them above her head before he began a fast, torturous rhythm.

Gaston was groaning, making carnal sounds of pleasure as he quickly chased his own release as Belle laid motionless beneath him, in too much pain to move. She tried to count how many pairs of antlers she saw on the walls, but it was little distraction. In and out, harder now, if that was even possible, an excruciating rhythm.

This was not how it was supposed to be. Sex was supposed to be pleasurable for both parties involved. This couldn't be what it was meant to feel like.

Gaston's thrusting got wilder, harsher and with a sharp cry he released deep inside of her, filling her with his fluid, branding her. As soon as he was done, he pulled out of her, causing Belle to cry in relief. Tears had streamed down her face without her noticing and she wiped them away now.

Gaston collapsed next to her, panting heavily, satiated for the time being at least.

The silent tears had begun again and this time she just let them fall. Belle wanted to believe that the experience was so horrible because it wasn't with the right man, but hard as she tried not to think about it, a small part of her still believed that the reason her experience was so agonizing was because she was different. Like the whole town said, she was odd.


	3. A Midnight Stranger

Belle laid restless the entire night staring at the cracks that fragmented the ceiling as she did most nights, trying desperately to clear her mind but to no avail.

Her fingers itched to caress the rough feeling of parchment as she lost herself in a story, to bring herself out of the misery she called life, but Gaston had forbidden Belle from bringing books into his home, declaring they were not intended for a woman's small mind.

At the risk of getting beaten if she disobeyed, Belle did as she was told.

Gaston owned a bar, so it was no surprise that he came home inebriated most evenings. Sometimes he would request that Belle accompany him and help serve drinks to the men, and if they so desired, to entertain them in ways that made her think of herself as no more than a body, a mere vessel for a man's physical pleasure.

The large bedroom in the back of the bar served well as a place for a quick lay. Gaston, of course, didn't mind sharing his bride, as it was yet another means of exploiting his power, his dominance over her body and mind. He owned her, body, spirit, and soul.

Unsurprisingly, Belle was never able to find pleasure in an action she felt nearly every body was created to do, thus confirming her theory that, for whatever reason, she was made differently and that was the reason intercourse was so intolerable.

One evening, while pouring yet another glass for a friend of Gaston's, a stranger walked into the bar, a unique occurrence considering the town was so isolated from the rest of the country.

He was tall, and wore a large cloak that hid his face in dark shadow. He sat down at the far end of the bar, hidden in the shadows that clung to the walls, as far as he could get from the rest of the men. It was obvious he was trying to remain inconspicuous, though he truly was an odd sight to see at midnight in a bar. Luckily for the stranger, the men surrounding him were either too drunk to notice him or passed out on the floor, and it appeared that no one but Belle had noticed the entrance of a tall cloaked stranger, face hidden and hood lowered. 

Belle often considered deserting the bar when Gaston reached this point of inebriation, but she had learned the hard way that her departure would not go unnoticed and would signify more pain for her later. 

Belle approached the cloaked figure cautiously, running her hands on her apron just to give herself something to do so she wouldn’t twitch nervously.

"What can I get for you, Monsieur?" she asked kindly, and though she fought to maintain the porcelain cheerful tone and expression, she could feel the heavy weight of her eyelids and the smile that felt far too difficult to appear natural.

The stranger seemed to study her a moment, though it was hard to tell with Belle in such a foggy state and the stranger’s face completely hidden. "Do you happen to have hot chocolate?"

The voice was deep and powerful, but a deep exhaustion seemed to creep into his tone and though there was clear power in this man, fatigue seeped from every bone in his body.

Surprised, Belle took a step closer, trying to see the hidden face in the shadow of his cloak.

"Yes, we do.” Although she could not see the face beneath the hood, it was impossible to miss that the figure had a hunched back and was nearly twice the size of her brute of a husband.

Walking away swiftly, though she did her best to keep her eyes on the newcomer, worried he would disappear the second she turned her back, she retrieved the drink.

She returned promptly and placed the warm beverage on the counter, holding it a little more time than necessary so that it could thaw her fingers.

Belle went to help another customer after his murmured “Thanks,” but she kept her eyes trained on the unfamiliar man. The stranger stared at the mug for a moment before seeming to survey his surroundings for a moment, and then reached for his drink. To her surprise, the hand that came from beneath the cloak and grasped the cup was not human. The hand was at least three times the size of her tiny ones, and had claws sprouting from each fingertip.

She lifted her fingers to her mouth to cover a gasp of surprise, but in doing so, Belle had dropped the tray carrying the new round of beers for a few of the other customers in the room. The glasses toppled from the tray and shattered noisily on the hard floor, their contents spreading at her feet.

Gaston looked up from his enormous chair by the fire that could almost be mistaken for a throne, anger sparking in his dark gaze, visible even across the room. His rage permeated the air and Belle’s hair on her arms stood up as she mentally prepared herself for the blow and the humiliation that would follow.

Fury etched into the lines on his face, his heavy footsteps carried him swiftly to Belle with surprising agility, even with his inebriated state.

Belle kept her head low, not wanting to further anger her husband, and with her eyes trained on the ground, she watched as her spouse's enormous boots stamped closer.

She knew this was another expression of power, a show to demonstrate to his fellow men that he had control in the relationship, and that he was able to dominate a woman who had once not hesitated to speak her mind.

Not looking up, Belle was almost surprised to feel the staggering blow delivered to her cheek in a sharp movement. She had known he would hit her, but it didn't make the pain any less real.

Belle stumbled back, crying out quietly as she grasped the cheek that held a rapidly darkening bruise. She risked a glance up at her husband, whimpering at the anger still in his eyes.

He staggered towards her again, his weakened state clear to the witnesses by his imprecise placement of his feet.

She lifted her head up this time, resigned to her fate and pain that she knew would come, but she was too broken within to care about her physical being anymore.

He raised an arm again, ready to deal another blow, and this time Belle looked him straight in the eye as his arm came sailing towards her, so that he could see her own resilience in response to his anger.

As Gaston's fist made its way closer to its target, the movement sloppy and uncoordinated though certainly aimed well at Belle's other cheek, the punch was stopped halfway to its destination. To Belle's surprise, it was the huge, clawed hand of the hooded stranger that had caught the raised arm and prevented the blow. Only he wasn't hooded any longer.

Belle turned and saw that the hand belonged to an enormous beast, with horns sticking up at the top of his head and fangs sprouting from his mouth. He was terrifying to behold, but Belle simply couldn't muster the fear that had so often haunted her during her life with her husband. She knew not if she wasn't afraid because of what the beast was doing or if she was simply too weary, too  _ exhausted _ , to have the strength to be afraid anymore.

With a mighty half bellow, half roar, the stranger squeezed Gaston's fist, crushing it in the process. Gaston immediately crumpled to the ground and passed out.

The bar was silent now, all of the men rubbing at their eyes, trying to determine if this event was a hallucination induced by the alcohol or if it had truly happened. Luckily, the few that were still conscious seemed to believe they were simply drunk, and returned to their hearty conversations.

Without another moment's hesitation, the creature put his hood back up and exited the bar without a word. Belle, regaining her senses, followed a few steps behind, his long strides forcing her to run to catch up.

"Wait!" she called out. "Who are you?" The words 'What are you,' lingered shallowly beneath the question but she hadn't wanted to seem ungrateful to the being who had saved her from her husband.

"Nothing of consequence," came the hoarse reply. Belle noticed that the beast had said "nothing", not "no one". There was a difference. Nothing applied to inanimate objects and animals. 

By now, Gaston had awoken, not remembering anything, but his anger returned when he saw the spilled drinks that had been forgotten in the commotion and the pain in the damaged hand had flared as he attempted to stand. The pair could now hear his angry voice emerging from the bar.

"I must be going," said the Beast, turning away from her. “Thank you for the hot chocolate.”

"Wait!" she called out again, curiosity peeking once more in her desperate search for answers. "I don't even know your name and you've saved me."

"I have no name. I am a Beast."

"Then I shall call you Beast. Will I ever see you again?"

"No," was the only short reply.

"Please don't leave..." she faltered as she almost finished the thought with ' _ me'. _ Suddenly, the need to escape, to feel anything other than the empty numbness and fear that was all she knew overcame her. This was her opportunity. "Please, I can't stand to stay another second with that... man," she faltered, stopping herself from calling her husband a beast. "Where are you going?"

The Beast looked at her darkly, patience wearing thin before he stated blankly, "Isolation."

Belle was having none of it, however, and asked, "Can I come too?"

Confusion laced his expression, curiosity streaking across the hidden eyes. Who was this woman? With a hint of sarcasm, he replied "The purpose of isolation is that you are alone.” Mentally, he added,  _ so you can't hurt anyone. _

"If you go, that man you saved me from will only hit me again, completely defeating the purpose of you stopping him before. He will beat me, then he will take me home, and he will force me to..." Belle trailed off, startled by how much she had almost shared with a person she had not known more than a couple minutes, and not wanting to trouble her savior with her marital problems, she didn't finish the thought.

"He’ll what?" was the quiet, deadly reply.

Belle gave no answer, shaking her head silently, but she didn't need to. The Beast was intelligent, and he had known too many men like Gaston. For too much of his life, he had been one. But not anymore. And he knew what abuses Gaston had put Belle through.

The Beast suddenly felt sick. Bile rose in his throat as he thought of the many atrocities the woman must have suffered in the past. Yet he had seen the strength that remained in her eyes, and it awed him to no end to know that such a vitality existed.

He couldn't let such a woman live in that kind of a world any longer, and so he relented.

"Come along, then," he said before turning swiftly and walking towards a carriage without horses.

 


	4. Carriages Without Horses and Castles Without Kings

When the pair entered the carriage, Belle had every intention of questioning this stranger, studying him, to try to find out who he was and why he had been at the bar. She could see, however, that the being who had saved her was a person that kept to himself and did not share such things easily. She herself had many things she wouldn't share with anyone, let alone a complete stranger, so she couldn't truly blame him.

She thought back on how the evening had played out, wondering what would have happened if the newcomer hadn't shown up and she still had gone home to her unloving husband.

In the midst of debating whether or not she had made the right choice, ultimately deciding that things couldn't get any worse and that if the stranger had a malicious heart, he wouldn't have stopped the blow, exhaustion overtook Belle and she was forced to succumb to the soothing pull of sleep.

She slept most of the bumpy ride towards the Beast's home, exhausted as she was and it was close to three in the morning. Surprisingly, she found that even though the creature she was to share a home with was terrifying in appearance, Belle was far less afraid of him than she had been of her husband.

Perhaps it was the cool gaze that regarded her carefully when she spoke, or maybe the deep, rich voice that had spoken so quietly, almost as though afraid to frighten her.

But even with the surprisingly calming presence that was the Beast, Belle would always be haunted by thoughts and memories of Gaston, of a total lack of control over her own body and life, and as usual, her sleep was fitful and full of dark dreams.

Her memories played around in her mind on the rocky ride, and her brows creased in her sleep as Belle remembered the first time Gaston had hit her. She remembered when she lay fearfully awaiting her husbands return, and when he finally did, it was with another woman.

She had been lying restlessly in the massive bed, awaiting the night of pain and torment she was sure would come, though he still hadn't returned from the bar.

One of the waitresses at the bar, whom Belle had once called a friend, had walked into Belle's bedroom, hand-in-hand with Gaston.

Belle had given Gaston a confused look, unable to yet wrap her mind around what was occurring, to which he had responded with a malicious grin, as he stroked the young woman's light, blonde hair. The woman was far younger than Belle, barely even a woman, and Belle found herself envious of the young girl's pretty blue eyes. But Belle had something the other didn't, even if she didn't know it or care to think of it at the time, for behind those bright blue eyes was only an empty, though pretty, little head.

"Belle, why don't you go and fetch me and this lovely lady something to eat. Take your time, this may be a while," he said grinning and playfully smacking the girl's rump.

The younger girl giggled at this before hiccupping loudly. She was drunk.

Belle had been flabbergasted and outraged. She didn't like Gaston doing what he did to her but at the time it was worse knowing he was doing it to someone else when Belle was his spouse. It further proved to her that no matter how much she tried to fit in, how much she gave away, she would never be good enough.

But Belle soon realized that the few nights that Gaston brought home another helpless girl were a blessing in disguise. The shame with herself eventually was replaced by gratitude as Gaston would be appeased and Belle would be able to go another night without having to give him her body.

In the carriage, Belle tossed and turned at her memories, lying still as her body was ravaged within the dream.

Then she moaned, her face wrinkling in discomfort.

The Beast looked up, concerned at the noise, worried that she had awoken and forgotten where she was, what monster she was with, but he saw that the caramel eyes were still closed with a now troubled sleep, and pity and anger washed through him.

"Not tonight... No, please... hurts..."

Then she whimpered quietly, a wounded, broken animal. The Beast, cautious to wake the woman with dark circles under her eyes and a permanent crease between her brows, could sit there no longer. He knew what it was like to relive trauma on a constant loop in dreams.

He had been shocked that such a beauty wasn't scared of him;, he was twice her size in width, and a few feet taller in height. But she hadn't looked afraid. She had seemed almost... curious. 

He hadn't wanted her to come with him, but what could he have done? If he left her, his so-called gallant rescue would have been for nothing and the girl would have more bruises on her face than the slowly darkening one already forming from earlier that night. He couldn't just leave her.

So he had taken her, out of pity and guilt more than anything else, but as he heard her talking in her sleep, he was filled with such rage he hadn't felt since his father... Anger at himself and at the man who beat the sleeping woman filled him as he remembered how he too knew not what he had until he lost it.

Again, Belle stirred in her sleep, small noises of pain and a sound that seemed like she was trying to scream but something in the dream was preventing her. Or, more likely, someone.

He tapped her, then shook her gently on the shoulder.

"Miss? Miss, wake up, you're having a nightmare." It was only then that he realized he still didn't know her name.

Belle opened her eyes and flinched at the stranger before her. Her eyes portrayed the wild panic she was feeling, residual from her nightmare, though for a moment the Beast worried the fear was from seeing his form. Slowly, the pain cleared out of them and left behind only curiosity. She gave him a shy smile before looking down at her hands.

"Sorry," she mumbled in apology. 

"Don't be. We all get them," he replied, dismissing the unnecessary apology entirely as his mind wandered to the many dreams that had haunted him throughout his life, recurring memories playing on repeat to torment him for as long as he lived.

Shaking his head to dispel the horrible images, he changed the topic stating, "You know my name, but I still don't know yours."

"Well I don't believe I know your name, because I know that your true name is not 'Beast.' Though I will tell you mine nonetheless. My father named me Belle."

"Ah, Beauty. I have to say it suits you." Then the Beast looked away, embarrassed by his own compliment. "And as for my name, 'Beast' is the one that suits me best and it is the only one that I have known for some time."

Belle didn’t press the issue further, not wanting to upset the person that had granted her a means to escape. The two sat in an awkward silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts, analyzing the other’s words and possible backgrounds but without phrasing a question aloud.

Finally, the carriage slowed to a stop and Belle looked out the dark window as the Beast told Belle they had arrived at their destination.

Before them stood a huge castle, with gardens surrounding it and a marvelous grand door that was twice the Beast's height, which was saying something.

"Oh, my," breathed Belle, astounded by the grand sight in front of them. She hadn’t had much of a picture in mind, perhaps staying in a inn for the night or something of the sort. The truth was, just about anywhere was better than her previous so-called ‘home’. 

The Beast opened the doors stepped aside to allow Belle to enter first, ducking his head after a polite smile. Belle looked up shyly, unused to such a normal expression of manners, before taking a step into the great hall.

"I really do appreciate you allowing me to stay for a couple nights. I promise, I’ll be out of your way, you won't even notice I'm here," she rushed out hurriedly. "I’ll work for food and everything, could you show me to the servant quarters?" 

The next words were out of the Beast's mouth before he could stop them. "Ridiculous, you will stay in the guest bedroom in the east wing.” 

He rushed to continue at the surprise on Belle’s face. “You are free to roam the castle and the grounds, and stay as long as you wish. I will spend most of my time in the west wing, so don't worry about disturbing me. My one condition is that you stay out of the west wing." Realizing she would probably question the statement, he hurried on before she could. "Meals are in the dining hall, and I would appreciate it if you would join me for dinners."

The Beast knew it was dangerous to grow attached, to form a connection, but he needed to make Belle feel at home, at least to the best of his ability. She wouldn’t want to stay long, he had no doubt, but he would do what little he could to have some small positive impact on a person’s life. 

"My servants will show you to your room."

The Beast said this with such finality that it was clear they would not be seeing each other again for a while, and with no further goodbye, he walked quickly off to what Belle assumed to be the west wing.

...

The Beast knew better than to talk more than he needed to with the girl. Almost immediately after his request for his company at dinner, he had regretted it. Already he was scared he was beginning to have an emotional connection to her, though he had only known her for a few hours. It was nothing romantic, of course, he simply pitied the girl, and her experiences served as a reminder of his past mistakes. He simply wanted her to be safe from the world and its cruelties that it had dealt the poor girl. He wanted to protect her, both from life and himself.

He was glad for his forward thinking when he told her she would be staying in the east wing. He figured that the farther she was from him, the farther she would be from the danger that was himself. He chose to ignore the small voice that said perhaps the decision was more for his own benefit and the fear of forming a bond that would so soon be broken. 

And for this reason, the Beast couldn't have friends, even with the only girl who had looked him in the eye without fear.

Even so, the Beast hadn’t been able to resist wanting to spend some time with her, and in a moment of weakness had asked her to dine with him, something no one had done in countless years.

...

Just as the Beast had said, the servants had emerged and shown her to a breathtaking bedroom with a large window out to the gardens and a bed that could have comfortably fit three of her.

She laid down on the thick comforter and drifted quickly to a sleep full of dreams of the castle and the strange creature who had shown her kindness and saved her from a beating.

Briefly, she thought to herself that Gaston truly was more of a Beast than the haunted man she would now share a home with.

 


	5. The Castle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to add here that the servants and other members of the castle are all human, the only one cursed was the Beast. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading.

Belle awoke warm and more comfortable than she had in years, the windows to her left letting in golden light that seeped around the curtains. Before the heaviness of sleep and dreams had worn off, she didn’t remember where she was nor how she got there.

In a rush, her memories came flooding back to her: Gaston's fists, the carriage without horses, the mysterious man that had crushed her husband’s fist like an egg yet had been surprisingly shy and gentle with her...

Opening the curtains, Belle saw that the sun was shining on the magnificent grounds surrounding the palace. Deciding to enjoy the lovely weather as she doubted she would see the Master of the Castle before supper, Belle quickly dressed in a brilliant green dress and hurried outside. Bounding eagerly around a corner, she bumped into one of the servants she remembered was Lumiere.

"Oh pardon me, my lady," said the kind-faced man with a small bow.

"Oh it was completely my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going," replied Belle with a small smile. Belle had felt an immediate affection for Lumiere from the moment she had met him. His face held warmth and compassion, and that was rare to find these days. Something about his kind eyes that seemed to hold so much knowledge and a great history of pain in a way that was hidden for the sake of others and yet so vulnerable reminded her of her father. 

She felt as though she could tell the man almost anything, even though she barely knew him.

"I was just going to explore the grounds," Belle explained shyly, feeling the need to clarify her reason for her carelessness. She loved flowers of all sorts, especially roses, and from what little of the garden she had seen, the grounds were stunning.

When she was young, her father would tell her stories of his time with her mother, wanting to give them a connection they would never truly have after her mother died so young. Every time he had to leave her for a day or more, he would return to her with one flower. Always a single red rose. When Belle grew older and her father left more often for his job, he would always return with the same gift. 

It had been one of the few things she had left of her mother.

Belle hadn't been conscious of the fact that she was saying all this out loud until she realized Lumiere was nodding in understanding. She hadn't told that to anyone, not that there were many people she could have told.

"I seem to have forgotten myself. I'm so sorry for wasting your time with my babbling,” Belle said, looking at her hands where she fiddled with her fingers and wished the ground would swallow her whole.

A hand on her shoulder brought her gaze immediately back to his face, and Belle was once again struck by the paternal feel of the man and the way his eyes held nothing but warmth, open and exposed. "My lady, never think our conversations are anything but a pleasure," he said smiling. "Enjoy your walk."

Belle thanked him, cheeks feeling distinctly warmer than a moment before, and began to walk away before turning at the sound of Lumiere’s voice. 

"And one more thing," called Lumiere smiling. "There are some beautiful red rose bushes just past the fountain on your left."

...

Belle spent the entire day in the gardens, taking her time through the maze of bushes and flowers, more than she had ever seen in her life. There were three fountains that she counted, as well as a small stream that wound through the entirety of the grounds, and Belle found a shady spot and laid on the soft grass near the small brook and fell asleep to the soothing noise.

When she awoke, it was sunset.

Belle sighed and stretched happily, sitting up slowly and rubbing her eyes. Then she remembered. Dinner.

She raced back towards the castle, her thirst for more of an understanding about the Beast urging her feet to move faster.

Promptly at six o'clock, after Mrs. Potts had pointed her the right direction, Belle made her way into the dining room.

Sitting at one head of the enormous dining table was the Beast. His chest was bare beneath a large black coat and coal black pants. He gestured to the other end of the table.

"Please, join me." He shifted nervously and Belle was relieved that at least she wasn’t the only one who felt completely out of their element. All of the eagerness from a moment before became something more like nervousness as she laid eyes on the Beast. 

She wanted so much to know more about his life and if he had always been this way, but her tongue felt heavy in her mouth and her stomach and throat tight and constricting. 

Hastily, Belle sat down and looked at the numerous plates and forms of silverware in front of her. The Beast cleared his throat awkwardly and asked, “Did you enjoy your time in the gardens?” 

Belle looked at him in surprise for half a moment before realizing that Lumiere could have told him or he could have seen her from one of the windows. 

“Yes, very much, thank you.”

She was about to inquire about his own day when the servants emerged from what Belle assumed was the kitchen carrying many trays filled with food. They put scoops of mashed potatoes, nearly a full chicken, slices of beef, salad, vegetables of all sorts, and many other foods that Belle had never even heard of on her plate.

“Thank you,” she murmured quietly, returning Mrs. Potts’ warm smile.

The Beast made no move to start eating, lost in thought as he watched the woman across from him, the way her eyes were so soft and warm when smiling at Mrs. Potts, it was a marvel that in such a brief moment someone could appear so warm and open. 

His gaze dropped when Belle met his eyes, giving him a small smile that made his throat close for some inexplicable reason. 

"You have a beautiful castle," Belle said in an attempt to make conversation.

"Thank you," came the short reply. The Beast scratched the back of his neck nervously. He still refused to look at her. All day he had been looking forward to seeing her again, for some reason he didn’t care to analyze, but now that his moment had arrived, he realized he had no idea what to do or say.

He had been alone for so long that he had forgotten how to socialize with people he didn’t know. But the awkwardness only served as a reminder as to why he needed to remain locked up, away from the outside world.

"You look beautiful tonight," the Beast stated, before he could regret it.

A pleasant pink spread across Belle’s cheeks, and the Beast felt the room was distinctly warmer than a moment ago. 

"Thank you," Belle said quietly, and the Beast could tell that the compliment had made her uncomfortable. She had a hard time accepting compliments for she knew most of them were false or out of pity. She wondered which of these reasons the Beast had.

"Do you have a family?" asked the Beast, trying to recover from his mistake. Only too late did he realize that this comment was even worse than the last.

Belle fiddled with the napkin in her lap, wringing it in her fingers, and when she looked up the Beast noticed her eyes were distinctly wetter than before.

That was a no then. The Beast stood up, not knowing exactly what he had intended to do, but knowing he had to somehow comfort her. Even after he had lost everyone related to him by blood, he had always had people like Mrs. Potts and Lumiere. He rounded the table and stood over her, Belle still gripping tightly to her napkin as she appeared to be lost in thought. 

He stood awkwardly frozen for a moment in hesitation before he leaned down to squeeze her on the shoulder, a foolish move, he knew, but they weren't close enough for him to embrace her. As he raised his hand to touch her back, Belle flinched, curling in on herself, fear filling deep brown eyes for only a fleeting moment before she was able to realize what he was doing. 

It was look of true terror in her eyes that he had previously thought he was used to seeing.

The Beast thought she was flinching away from him because of his ugly, deformed figure, for who could blame her. But he was wrong, even though he didn't know it. Years of living with Gaston and his brutality had taught Belle that when a man raised a hand towards her, pain would soon follow.

"I'm sorry," said the Beast, immediately dropping his hand.

"I should go. Thank you for dinner," said Belle, even though most of her food remained untouched.

Without another word, Belle walked quickly down the hall, trying her best to keep her tears in until she reached her room, a task that proved almost impossible.

Shortly afterward, the Beast looked down at her unfinished plate of food, her warmth and presence still seeming to surround the area, and turned away.

He crept into the hall, remaining in the shadows where he belonged.

  
  


 


	6. The Library

Belle missed books. She missed the days that she could curl up by the fire and read until she slept, blissfully safe in her own little world, limited only by the words on the page. When her father passed and she married Gaston she was forced to give that all away. 

Gaston never liked her reading. While her father had encouraged it, Belle knew her father was unlike any man in the village, and the people ostracized him for it. Belle knew that very few, if any, consented to having their women reading. Reading filled a woman's head with thoughts that she didn't need to have. Women ought to focus all of their time making their man happy and looking after the children.

If Gaston ever caught Belle reading, he would throw the book in the fire and beat her until she was broken, body and soul.

...

The day after the dinner fiasco started uneventful. Belle had grown tired of the same four walls of her bedroom but didn't want to see the Beast yet. She wasn't ready to face him after her foolish actions from the night before.

Eventually, the boredom won her over, and Belle stood to go explore the palace. She wanted to see the armor, the paintings, the architecture, everything that made this castle so beautiful.

She quickly slipped out of her room, dressed in a soft pink dress, and wandered down the hall.

She soon ran into Lumiere again, and greeted him warmly.  The two smiled at each other, and the servant gave her an almost knowing look full of sympathy. He clearly knew what had happened last night.  The pair exchanged pleasantries, and Belle thanked him for pointing out the rose bushes.

After a brief goodbye, she continued her journey around the mansion when she soon saw Mrs. Potts.  Belle had instantly liked Mrs. Potts. She had never known a mother in her life, but she felt that this woman might be the closest she would ever get to having one.

She was kind and seemed to know exactly what to say, always accompanying her advice with a small embrace or pat, some bit of contact that made Belle feel as though everything would be alright.

While the two conversed for some time, Belle noticed that one of the older woman's hands was held behind her back, as if hiding something.

Belle began to step around the woman, as if she was simply trying to get down the hall, but secretly she was trying to see what the woman was hiding. 

Mrs. Potts quickly readjusted herself, but it wasn't quick enough. The old woman was hiding behind her back a magnificent book with a dark blue cover, practically black, and the title etched in golden script. It was indeed a marvelous looking book, and Belle would read anything if it meant a few moments of holding a story close to her heart, escaping from her own world.

Trying to act nonchalant, the younger girl asked, "When you finish with that, could I borrow it?"

Startled, Mrs. Potts didn't know what to say. "You know how to read?"

"Yes, my father taught me. He believed that every person should have the opportunity to obtain knowledge."

"That's exactly what I'm teaching my children. I would never have guessed..." But now that she knew 

Belle could read, she could see the knowledge and curiosity in the young woman's eyes.

Belle looked hopefully up at her.

 "Yes, of course, my dear. I was just surprised. Not many women in these parts know how to read, and even fewer utilize their ability."

"I know, it's quite sad really..." She trailed off, wistful images of having a friend her age that she could talk to about her books, and not being the odd girl in the village.

"Here," said Mrs. Potts, handing her the elegant book. "I've actually finished it, I was just returning it to the library."

"You have a library?" Belle could hardly contain her excitement. Oh, how pleasant her stay would be if she could occupy her time with books.

"Why yes, dear, right through those doors," she said pointing. "I could show you if you'd like. What type of books do you like?"

"Oh I like all kinds, thank you so much! I won't waste any more of your time. Thank you thank you thank you!" she cried with a swift hug and kiss on the cheek.

Without another word, Belle bounded through the two large doors Mrs. Potts had pointed to. Without a further thought, she quietly pushed on them. She had to be careful. She knew the master of the castle would not like a woman staying in his home reading, especially not his own books.

Making sure nobody was watching, Belle slipped into the library, remaining close to the doors just in case anyone was in it. When she was certain she was safe, she looked up, a grin pushing its way onto her face. Surrounding her were hundreds of books, thousands, mountain after mountain, pile after pile, shelf after shelf. Belle was in heaven.

She pinched herself, shaking her head to ensure sure she was not dreaming. Slowly, she stepped into the overwhelming room, doing her best to see every inch of it as she went.

In the back was a grand fireplace, surrounded by soft chairs and couches. Belle fingered the many spines of novels, marveling at the wonderful texture she hadn't enjoyed in so long.

Belle again looked at the book Mrs. Potts had given her. Belle read the first page and decided she would read it first. She found a chair that was next to a window, and sat down, sinking into the soft velvet cushion.

This chair was farthest from the entrance so that she could read comfortably in the knowledge she would go unseen to a passerby.

Though it was out of sight from the fire, Belle could still feel its heat. Sighing happily, she curled up and opened the book.

...

 

Hours later, in the early afternoon, Belle was still reading of magic and fairies and knights in shining armor. She read of damsels in distress, of ballroom dances, of love.

She read about the brave prince who had fallen in love with the commoner he couldn't marry because of his throne, and how he ran away to be with her. In the end, the king had sent his knights after the couple, threatening to kill the girl if the prince didn't return to the throne. The girl told the prince she would rather die than be without him, and had taken out a dagger hidden in her dress and plunged it into her heart. The prince, devastated, had taken his own sword and instead of using it to fight, also used it to end his own life, dying moments later.

Belle, enthralled by the story, was heartbroken by the ending, and forgetting where she was, she allowed her quiet sobs to fill the room.

Little did she know, the Beast was sitting not far away in one of the great chairs next to the fire. Startled by the noise because he had previously thought himself to be alone, he looked up from his own book. He stood up and quietly followed the noise of crying. 

He soon saw Belle, curled tightly into a ball, smaller than he would have thought possible, quietly weeping. Her face had tears running down it, eyes squeezed shut and a hand covering her mouth to mute the noise of her crying. Quietly, knowing better than to touch the girl again, the Beast pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket and dabbed the girls face, careful to only touch her skin with the handkerchief, nothing else. 

Startled, Belle looked up to the Beast's bright blue eyes full of concern.

"I'm sorry, I just-I didn't think you would... I know I shouldn't have, please don't be angry, I’m so sorry,” she said, sobs now slowing as she got ahold of herself, fiddling with her hands in her lap as she awaited to anger, the rage, or even worse, the retraction of her invitation to stay.  

The Beast, shocked by her apology, struggled to find a response when he had no idea what she was apologizing for.

The book. She was apologizing for the book. 

She was apologizing for reading. She was cowering and holding herself because she thought he was going to hit her. For reading?  

Anger tightened the Beast’s stomach, rage towards the man that had broken the woman before him, and Belle saw it in his eyes. She flinched away, trying to mentally prepare for the worst. 

"No no, God no. Read all you like... most of these books haven't been touched in years," he said, sitting in the armchair next to hers in the hopes of appearing less tall and intimidating. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you... sometimes I forget how monstrous I look."

Belle, taking a deep breath and clearing her throat, said, "No, it's not that. I just... most people don't like women reading, and I did it without your permission... It wasn't you, I was scared because Gaston would always..." she trailed off, not wanting to say the horrible words aloud. "He didn't like me reading."

With these words, Belle had been subconsciously stroking her cheek, which had a yellowing, nasty bruise on it. Pain and anger filled the Beast's eyes again, but this time Belle knew the feelings weren't directed at her.

Without thinking, the Beast reached out, and this time Belle didn't flinch away. Gently, with his large thumb, he stroked the bruised cheek. Then he remembered himself, and pulled his hand away.

Surprisingly, Belle felt the loss and was slightly saddened by it.

Trying to lighten the mood, the Beast said, "I see you've found one of my favorites. Is that why you were crying?"

"Oh it was a beautiful book. I loved every minute of it, even the heart wrenching ending," Belle said, wiping the rest of her tears away with the Beast's handkerchief and smiling.

"Yes, I felt exactly the same way. I've read it three times now," he chuckled.

"Sometimes it's nice to go back to books you've read, just to experience them again," she said, talking more to herself than to him. "Sometimes I wish I could forget everything that happens in them so I could read them again and again just like the first time."

She smiled shyly at him, and once again, the Beast was struck by how beautiful she was without trying. Knowing that she was not just a pretty package with nothing inside it only made him care more for her.

Frightened by his sudden emotions, he once again closed in on himself, his eyes hardening slightly as he pulled himself away from her. 

Belle could see the difference and it saddened her. His eyes, which had shown such openness just a moment ago, were now cold and hard.

Belle looked down at her lap where the book was sitting and handed it to him. Not knowing what else to say, she said, "Thank you for letting me borrow this. I'm sorry to have disturbed your reading," and without another word, she flew off, eyes trained on her feet the entire time. 

She deserved it, she knew. He probably pitied her and wanted to talk because he felt bad and she scared him off. Now he knew what an odd girl she truly was.

...   
  



	7. Amelia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, I won't keep you but just a warning the beginning of this chapter is relatively important as we look at the Beast's past. Just a heads up, thank you for reading!

**** The Beast had long accepted that he would live out his days in this world alone. He had broken ties with any friends he'd had before the spell, and spending time in an isolated palace was not a way to make new ones. Not that he would have been able to if he left.

All of the people whom he had called family had long since died, and though the sting had lessened with the numbing years to follow, it still ached to think about his past and his childhood.

But most of the people he had known before his transformation that didn't share blood ties with him had simply used him for political or financial purposes, and even though the Beast had known this at the time, too late had he realized that perhaps it was better to be alone than to surround oneself with people who wanted him for the wrong reasons.

That was the thing about people with power, something he had learned at an age far too young. They thought they were better than others, and they didn't care about who the had to hurt or step on to get to the top. Just as he had been.

In his past, he had hurt too many people, the unhappy man that he was, and he had taken his pain out on others. He saw the world as having two types of people, those who took their pain and became better to ensure that others didn't have to endure the same brutality that they had, and there were others who inflicted pain because of the torment that ripped them apart inside. He knew that better than anyone.

The Beast, in the little time he had spent with the guest at his castle, had realized that they were the two opposite beings, the two types of people to accept hardships in their lives. He had lashed out, learning what he did from his father, while Belle had a different way about things. She took strength from her pain, growing from it, and he envied her ability to do so.

Too late he had realized the error in his ways, and when he did, he vowed to never allow himself to become close to someone, because he knew what he could, and inevitably  _ would _ , do to them.

He knew why he was this way, though he knew the blame laid only with himself. He simply knew the man that had sent him on this path to destruction.

His father had been cold and unloving towards the Beast as a child, and to the rest of his family. His outlet for pain and anger had been his only son, the loss of his wife driving him to try to eradicate the pain in the only way he knew how.

His mother had died young, too young, giving birth to his only sibling, a sweet younger sister, whom he was painfully reminded of at times by Belle, a sweet and kind hearted exterior with a pain wound too deeply to ignore.

Sweet Amelia had died at six, the only person he had left in his life, the only one who made life worth living. The one he had taken the beatings for, never fighting back, never leaving their home to ensure that she would never have to be subject to their father’s cruelty.

But the Beast couldn't save her. He had gone to the village for his father on that warm, spring day, and arrived to an empty home, filled only with shadow and misery, a hollow vessel of the joy Amelia had filled it with.

His father had told him that she had drowned in the small stream in the garden, but the Beast had later discovered that little Amelia had broken her father's pocket watch, and for that their father had beaten her until she broke.

...

After Belle had the time to think through the strange interaction, she found herself growing far more curious about the mysterious master of the castle and the connection they had briefly shared.

But something had changed in his eyes as he closed himself off from her, as though afraid of opening up and exposing himself to anyone. Belle could empathize, however she could detect a kindred spirit in his heart and felt he could be trusted.

She continued wandering the halls, trying to find where she was in the castle to make her way back to her bedroom. She knew that it would be polite to give the being space since that was clearly what he wanted, but he already knew far more about her life than she did his. He had seen the torment with his own eyes, and she had felt their connection, the light in his eyes when discussing the novel, and she longed to feel that again.

She could sense an inner pain and she longed to help him as he had for her, and the only way she felt she could do this was by getting to know him better. She was just pondering as to how she was going to go about doing so when she discovered she was in a part of the castle she had never explored.

The curtains were far more ragged, torn in some areas by what she assumed were claws. The air was cool and drafty, and the familiar light and heat that seemed to flow through the rest of the castle left her as she journeyed on.

Statues and gargoyles occupied large spaces, warding off unwanted guests, though Belle was too far in to leave now. She had some time before she was expected for supper, and she could always say she had gotten lost. She ascended the stairs quietly, hovering close to the darkness the walls provided.

There wasn't much of interest in the unfamiliar passageway she entered; a few guest rooms, some windows looking out at the sun beginning its descent.

Then Belle approached a heavy door, larger than the rest of the rooms. She opened it slowly, briefly throwing a glance over a shoulder to ensure nobody was watching, and tiptoed her way into what she instantly knew to be the Beast's quarters.

She walked slowly, listening for a moment for any signs of movement within the bedroom but determined it to be empty. With this knowledge, she crept in, examining the objects that showed the area was clearly inhabited, seeing old swords and trophies won for jousting and fencing. Next to these was a small hand mirror that appeared old yet elegant, and Belle wondered what use a Beast who was ashamed of his appearance had for such an object.

In the center of the room was a large bed, except upon closer inspection, it appeared more like a nest. The bed frame still remained, but it was a collection of blankets and torn pillows in the center instead of a mattress.

In the middle of the pile was a slight dip where Belle instantly knew the Beast slept. She approached the area without thought, extending her fingers toward the mass and softly stroking. Suddenly becoming aware of her actions, her hand recoiled and she knew she had seen enough. As if to further convince her to take her leave, an old clock of dark wood with gold lining in the corner of the room chimed, signaling it was a quarter to six, fifteen minutes until supper.

Suddenly, guilt washed through her, making her throat squeeze in shame. She knew she was disregarding the request of a man who took her into his home and showed her kindness, and no matter how standoffish he acted, she knew she ought to respect his wish.

As she turned to go, two small portraits caught her eye. All of the paintings in the room had been ripped to shreds, however these two were different.

The first was a portrait of a man, with steely blue eyes and a handsome face. It was torn far worse than the others but that was not what caught Belle's eye. The eyes were familiar.

The other painting was beautiful and untouched. It was a painting of a girl, no more than five or six, and she was absolutely lovely. She had the same clear blue eyes as the other portrait, but hers weren't hardened by pain. They held a note of sadness, but clearly expressed love and adoration for the world around her. Her reddish hair caught the light and made the blue of her eyes seem to come out of the painting itself.

It was clear by the hair and eyes that the people in the two paintings were related, though that was not what had drawn Belle's attention. This portrait was the most fascinating in the room, not because of the girl, but because it was the only one that hadn't been torn.

It remained untouched, only affected by time, but Belle wondered who the child was to earn such reverence from the master of the castle. Unfortunately, she didn't have enough time to entertain the thought as she knew she could be late for dinner.

Quickly, Belle dashed out, and when she heard footsteps approaching, she posed swiftly by one of the windows that looked out onto the sunset.

Belle turned around when she heard the footsteps right behind her, false surprise in her eyes.

"My apologies, I didn't expect to see you here," said the Beast when he brushed up beside the woman.

"The fault is my own, I simply wanted to enjoy watching the sunset."

The Beast looked at her skeptically a moment, peering into her gaze in search of clues. "You are aware that this is the west wing, which I would prefer for you to stay away from," he said with a note of severity in his tone, though underneath Belle could hear the fear glimpse through.

Belle decided it was best to play dumb.

"Oh, is it? I must apologize, I did not know. The castle is so large, I was on my way back to my room but the colors of the sunset are so beautiful, I just wanted to see them for a moment before dinner." The guilt returned to Belle once more, tightening her stomach to the point that she wondered if she would be able to eat.

"I would prefer you to admire it outside then," said the Beast resolutely with a solemnity that kept Belle from saying more. The tone scared her a bit, as the Beast usually seemed so gentle and she wondered what secrets those faces in the paintings had held.

He peered at her face, begging her with his eyes with what he could not put into words.  _ Please, you must stay away from me. _

Hurt blinked in the soft brown eyes, and it reminded the Beast of what had occurred in the library, and guilt washed over him once more. Suddenly worried about what it had done to their budding friendship, he asked, "Will I see you for dinner?"

"Yes of course," replied Belle, looking puzzled. He had made it abundantly clear she would be having supper with him every night. She wondered why he made it seem like she had a choice now.

As the middle of her brows creased, she gave him a polite nod and half hearted smile before turning to prepare for their meal.

...

The dinner began somewhat awkwardly, like the night before, but instead of uncomfortable conversations about the other's past, they occupied the time by discussing the many books they had read and hoped to read in the future. When they had both eaten their fill, Belle stood up.

"Thank you so much for dinner," she said, addressing both the servants and the Beast.

"Wait," the Beast said, the words slipping out of his mouth before he was able to control them.

"Yes?" she asked curiously, the question evident in the one word, and the Beast needed to think of an answer.

"I...I wanted to show you something. A book." He could see these two words had peaked her interest as her gaze brightened at the thought. Perhaps their friendship wasn't lost after all. Smiling to himself with the small victory, the Beast led her to the library once more, and escorted her to the large armchair by the fire where he had been sitting in before he heard her crying.

There sat his book, right where he had left it.  _ Romeo and Juliet. _

"Shakespeare?" she asked, surprised though smiling at his choice. "I wouldn't have expected that to be to your liking."

He gave her a puzzled look, lifting up the book and fingering its spine as he said, "Anyone can enjoy  _ Romeo and Juliet, _ it's a book everyone must read."

"I couldn't agree more," she said, smiling encouragingly, hoping that if she showed him she was unafraid he would not close off from her again.

"Have you read it recently?" he asked hesitantly.

"No, not at all. I read it when I was ten, perhaps eleven," she replied, and he sighed in relief.

"I was wondering if you would like to read with me," he asked nervously, though secretly he knew he was not yet ready to part from this woman's company, the only companionship he'd had in years. As much as he could try to deny it, her presence was quickly becoming addictive and he longed to know more about her.

"How, you mean putting it in between us and sharing it?" she asked.

"If you would like."

"Would you prefer for me to just read to you?"

His heart skipped a beat and he fought to maintain a steady voice. "If you would like," he repeated, though he desperately hoped she would.

"If it so pleases you," she said, taking the book from his large paw, her fingers brushing the soft fur, sending warmth through his body.

Retracting her hand, she shivered slightly, and the Beast’s brows furrowed in concern. “Are you cold?” he asked concerned. 

“Just a bit,” she said, fingering the hard cover of the book. 

“Sit closer to the fire,” the Beast said admonishingly, but Belle knew that it came from a place of caring and concern, the way her father once would have told her, and she couldn’t help but laugh as she and the Beast sat on the floor side by side before the fire. 

Her soft voice soon filled the library, and she tasted the rich, rhythmic words on her tongue, and the Beast sat back and closed his eyes. He let her voice fill him, and it was all he could think about as she read.

Belle subconsciously leaned into him, enjoying the heat radiating off of his body on the brisk night. She was glad his eyes were closed for she wouldn't want him to see her getting that close, worried he would push her away once more. But she couldn't help it. He was like a magnet and with him, for some strange reason, she could feel safe.

She leaned back some, to give him some space in case he opened his eyes and when she briefly looked up again from the book, minutes later, his eyes were trained on her face.

Her cheeks heated but she pretended not to notice, trying to concentrate on the writing before her.

The Beast was transfixed. She had put him under a hypnotic spell, with her beauty and her voice, and he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Her skin was slightly pale, and her light brown eyes were surrounded by dark, long lashes, stark against her complexion. She furrowed her brow in concentration as she read, and the Beast wanted to touch the crease where her two eyebrows pushed towards each other.

Her hair was down for once, and in the fire light, the Beast could see hints of red within it. He watched her soft, pink lips move as she spoke. Briefly, he wondered if they were as soft as they appeared. He shook his head to clear himself of that thought, forcing himself to gaze at the fire instead.

As the time wore on, their eyes drooped until they fell asleep where they were, close together by the fireplace. They eventually laid down, and when they finally did succumb to sleep, the Beast had draped his arm protectively over her.


	8. The Power in a Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh this chapter is long haha! But here's some fluffy fluffy angst, thank you for reading.

Belle awoke to a large arm draped over her slender frame. Forgetting where she was, fear gripped her as her mind was brought back to a bed she shared with Gaston. A feeling of calm and safety washed over her when she realized it was the Beast.

She was held protectively against his chest and she briefly wondered when was the last time she had felt so safe within another's embrace. The heat that radiated off of his body made her want to close her eyes and simply enjoy the feeling but the worry of seeing his embarrassment and shame kept her from stalling her departure.

Inhaling deeply and closing her eyes for just a moment longer, Belle carefully shifted her body away from his chest. She was about to lift the heavy arm off of her body when the embrace tightened, bringing Belle back to his body once more. Belle couldn't help but chuckle quietly at this softer side of the brooding and reclusive man.

After the previous night, Belle noticed she felt much closer to him. Perhaps it was the fact that she had spent the night in his arms, or maybe that she did not want to leave the protective embrace. All she knew was that she had this underlying knowledge that she could  _ trust _ this man like no one before. 

She didn’t feel the need to hide who she was with him, nor be ashamed of her past as he had already seen her at the worst. Or at least nearly so. This vulnerability both stunned and frightened her as she was so prepared to share herself with the Beast even though she knew so little about him in turn. 

She wanted to know who the Beast was in another life, what his past was, what he hid from her. And most of all, she wanted to know what he felt he needed to hide from her. Did he have a family once? Had he had friends? Who had he been before the Beast?

She wanted to ask these questions, but a part of her was afraid she would lose all of the progress they had made towards their tentative friendship, and a larger part of her wanted him to  _ want _ to tell her.

Finally deciding that she must take her leave, she shifted away from the warm body behind her and lifted the arm once more, setting it gently on the rug where she had been sleeping. She lingered for a moment longer to gaze at how gentle and relaxed he looked in sleep without the heavy weight on his shoulders, her brows pushing together as she studied the unconscious form, and left.

...

The Beast awoke alone, disoriented from the contorted position he awoke in and the unfamiliar surroundings. He rolled onto his back, trying to stretch his tense muscles. Though he awoke in an uncomfortable position, he appeared more well rested than he had for quite some time.

Then last night came flooding back and embarrassment at how desperate he had acted, wanting so much to share the young woman's company for longer, flooded through him, causing his chest to squeeze and shame to fill his stomach.

He wondered if she was ashamed too. What if she was disgusted to have spent the night with him, even though they hadn't done anything? What if he had accidentally brushed up beside her throughout the night and she noticed? What if she wanted to leave immediately and she had already packed her bags, ready to escape him? Perhaps she had finally realized what he was.

Bile rose in his throat and the Beast raced up the stairs, three at a time, and pounded anxiously on Belle's door. He knew it was her decision and that he ought to let her go, but his heart felt so heavy in his chest at the thought of how empty the palace would be without her, without being able to look forward to their suppers together.

Belle was just beginning to call, "Just a minute!" but the Beast was already barging in her room, too worried to be patient. "Mrs. Potts, is that-"

"Oh God, I am so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking, oh my..." the Beast trailed off, quickly averting his eyes though the image would be imprinted on his mind for his entire life.

Belle had her back to the Beast, fully nude as though she had just emerged from bathing. Her clothes for the day had been laid out in front of her.

From where he stood, the Beast had seen her slim body, a lovely hourglass figure, with her hair cascading down her back in gorgeous, unruly curls. His eyes had been unable to avoid her round backside, and before he could stop himself, he took in a shaky breath, shame combined with arousal spreading through him.

It had been so many years since he had seen someone...

The Beast, who had up until that point been frozen by her beauty, snapped back to his senses.

"Forgive me, Belle, I thought you had left and.. I'm very sorry,” he said, voice muffled as he faced away from her and had a hand over his face to prevent his traitorous eyes from wandering. 

The Beast didn't give her any time to respond, far too flustered and ashamed at his rash actions and arousal to stay any longer. He rushed out of the door and quickly shut it behind him.

He leaned against it and heaved a shaky sigh. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his mind of the horrible yet intoxicating images in his mind, he ran his fingers through the fur on his head and left quickly in the direction of his own quarters.

...

Belle had been startled, to say the least, though not angry. He couldn't have known what was awaiting him on the other end of the door, God knew how many times she had acted rashly and regretted it after.

It was endearing to hear that he had barged in for fear she had left; it showed a certain vulnerability that was often kept hidden from her.

Briefly, the image of his bashfulness when asking her to read with him the night before flitted into her mind and her lips quirked upwards with an amused smile as she fiddled with the clothes in front of her.

However, it had made her feel vulnerable and insecure that he had seen her. She wasn't one to flaunt her looks or wear revealing clothing and she was reminded of how much the other knew about her and now had seen while she still felt she knew so little. It felt like the physical manifestation of their relationship, Belle bared and vulnerable while the Beast was clothed and protected. 

It hurt her chest to think about, and her heart sank further when she thought of how embarrassed and flustered the Beast must have been, and she quickly dressed in the hopes of talking to him and clearing things up.

...

When finally dressed, Belle had emerged from her chambers in the hopes of encountering the Beast and telling him that all was still well in the hopes of reassuring him their friendship had not been dampened.

She wandered the castle, at least the parts she was allowed to, and then the gardens, but the Beast was nowhere to be found, and she assumed this was done on purpose. Determined to respect his wishes and give him his space, Belle spent much of the day in her room reading. Glancing out the window, she looked out upon the gardens. Deciding she could use some fresh air, she quickly grabbed her book and began to walk in the direction of the spring.

She exited the palace and once again walked throughout the gardens, nose firmly planted in her book as she enjoyed the cool air. She approached the brook, nose in her book, and sat down, unaware that the Beast was sitting not two yards from her.

They sat in silence for some time. The Beast glanced at her, her eyes still not leaving the page, and he wondered if she was allowing him to speak first or if she truly hadn't noticed him there. Drawing in a breath, he took the opportunity to apologize.

"I really am sorry about this morning," the Beast said hoarsely. "I-I thought perhaps you had left without saying goodbye. But of course you can leave whenever you want, but..." he had started to say he would miss her but that was too personal. They still didn't know each other well. He needed to take a step back from this girl, but something about her kept drawing him in.

Belle looked up from her book, surprised to find herself not alone. She tried to give him a comforting smile though his gaze still held shame.

"Please don't worry about it. I thought you were Mrs. Potts with breakfast," she laughed. "You left so quickly I didn't get to tell you it was alright."

"Nonetheless, it was inappropriate for me to barge in like that," he said, eyes trained on the ground with guilt.

Belle shook her head, not knowing how else to convince him that she wasn't upset with him. Her soft, brown eyes pleaded with him to look up and see that she held no resentment towards him. It brought her great sorrow to see how much loathing he seemed to hold for himself.

She shifted closer, placing a small hand on his forearm, causing his guilty eyes to meet her soft brown ones. The touch warmed him in ways he hadn't imagined, and he wondered how anyone could feel such a calm from a simple touch.

"I would never leave without saying goodbye," she whispered, pleading for him to understand. They didn't know each other well yet, but Belle hoped to change that soon. It seemed that they were both all that the other had.

Suddenly, she stood up and took his hand. Pulling him to his feet, though she couldn't actually help him up, she commanded, "Walk with me."

The Beast was surprised by the sudden authority in her voice and he couldn't hide the smile of endearment at the strength she often demonstrated.

The pair walked around the gardens hand in hand with no destination in mind, their only desire for the afternoon to never end. They talked about everything ranging from politics to dogs, the castle and books especially.

"I was, um, wondering," the Beast began hesitantly, stopping in their path as Belle looked up at him with amusement etched on her face. "I was wondering if you would like to read some more, tonight after dinner?"

Belle looked at him as though contemplating her answer, but as the Beast shuffled from foot to foot Belle could not hide her smile for long. "I would love that," Belle said, grinning up at him.

Together they walked with their hands still entwined back to the dining room for supper.

...

The morning's incident was not brought up again during the dinner nor afterwards as they sat together by the fire. They talked for hours, Belle revealing bits and pieces about how wonderful her father had been and how the owner of the bookshop had often let her borrow from his store.

The Beast in turn revealed things of a less personal nature though Belle was simply content for him to be talking to her at all. While he never brought up his own family, he would talk with endearment about Mrs. Potts and Lumiere and how they had been his most trusted friends for years.

When they finished their book, they conversed far into the early hours of the morning but the Beast worried about falling asleep together once more so when Belle yawned for the fourth time in about five minutes, he suggested they return to their chambers.

"May I escort you to your room," he said softly, almost as though unsure she would agree.

Belle nodded politely, the corners of her mouth twitching.

He stood first, outstretching a hand to help her up, and again he was surprised to remember the manners he hadn't used since he was taught to do so as a child. It seemed this woman brought out a different side of him.

She grasped his paw and stood, each waiting a moment as they looked to the other to make the first move as they stood less than a foot away from one another. The Beast looked down at the girl, studying the curious expression that caused a small crease in between her brows and wondered what she was thinking about.

Finally, he released her hand and turned away in the direction of the exit, beckoning for her to follow.

They said little on the journey back, exhaustion finally seeming to catch up to Belle as she sluggishly bid her feet to keep moving.

When they reached the door, they both paused a moment before the Beast broke the silence. "Goodnight, Belle," he said with a polite nod of his head, tasting her name almost reverently. And with that he was gone.

...

The next day was almost identical to the one before it, although without the embarrassment the morning had held. The Beast did, however, still visit her chambers in the morning, though he did knock and wait until she bade him entrance before opening the door.

He watched as her gaze went from confusion to a sort of joy that he had come to see her. Happiness because of him.

He cleared his throat, nervously shifting his gaze to the floor in front of him before asking, "I was, um, wondering if you would care to join me in the gardens again today."

His feet shifted as he spoke and Belle had to fight a giggle at how nervous and sheepish such an intimidating being was simply talking to her. He always seemed to be fighting himself as he asked to spend time with her, yet he continued to do so. She bit her lip, until she could control herself once more. 

His blue eyes peeked up at hers and she gave him a reassuring smile before nodding. "Let me just grab a coat," she said, bounding over quickly to the wardrobe as he looked around the room while he waited.

The bed was made and the room seemed relatively tidy. One would hardly recognize a person inhabited this place if not for the piles of books on every table or other surface she could use.

He smiled fondly at the sight before looking down at his feet once more. She walked up to him then, still waiting for her in the doorway, and she brushed lightly by his side, sending heat through his body.

"Ready?" she asked smiling, victoriously holding up two books in her hands.

He nodded and grinned back, extending his arm so she could grasp it as they made their way to the gardens.

...

They walked together, Belle's hand still on his arm, enjoying the cool weather in the gardens. They said nothing, but the silence wasn't as intimidating as their first supper together. It had become a sort of comfortable quiet in which each was left to their own thoughts.

The Beast was just contemplating on what book the two would share that evening when Belle interrupted his thoughts.

"I’m glad to see you've learned the concept of knocking," she said, a small smile attempting to form as she pursed her lips to keep it down.

Heat spread across the Beast's cheeks and he looked down in flustered embarrassment. They had stopped walking and their arms had finally separated for the first time since they started their walk.

Belle's face fell when she saw the shame creep into the blue of his eyes.

"Hey," she began, stepping towards him and grasping one of his large hands in two of her own. "I'm sorry, I was just teasing. You know I'm not upset..."

She implored his gaze to meet her own and when it finally did, mischief and playfulness shone through. Her hammering heart slowed as her expression changed from one of guilt to a mock accusatory glare.

She elbowed him playfully, still clutching his hand when she pulled him gently to walk once more. "Come on," she said, rolling her eyes with a large grin spread across her face.

...

Time continued like this; some mornings would be spent together talking, while for others, they would be separate in their own bedrooms. No matter how the day was spent, they always joined for dinner and would sit together by the fire in the library afterwards.

Sometimes they would read, both together and separately, and other times they would talk. Each was hesitant to open up about their pasts, though Belle was more forthcoming than the Beast. She stayed away from topics such as Gaston and her life as his wife but was willing to reveal fragments of her life with her father, before it was corrupted by her husband.

As months passed, the unlikely pair grew closer and closer. Belle would tell the Beast about the bookshop and how her love for roses had begun.

The Beast always listened quietly, attentively, drinking in every word she spoke. He was enraptured by her stories, always curious to find out more about the unique woman who seemed to hold no fear for his monstrous form.

When Belle finally divulged how her father had passed away, her eyes had glistened softly in the warm light of the fire, and without thinking, though with mild hesitation, the Beast had pulled her to his chest in a protective embrace, trying to express what he couldn't put into words but to let her know that she was not alone. Not anymore. 

They had said nothing, sitting quietly by the fire as he traced soothing circles across her back.

The Beast wouldn't talk much about his past, careful to stay away from topics such as Amelia and his father, memories laced with pain and anguish that he wasn't ready to share with anybody. Eventually, he told her about his curse and how he had received it. He told her about who he was before the spell, how cruel and unfeeling he had been, and how he still was dangerous to grow close to, to which Belle would say, "No," with no further comment, as if that one word was all she needed to prove him wrong.

One evening, while the Beast and Belle were sitting by the fire, both pairs of legs outstretched towards the flames, Belle laid her head on the Beast's lap and curled up next to him. Gently, he stroked her hair. The silence remained unbroken for some time until Belle asked, "What is your name?"

The Beast sat up, looking down at her. "I already told you, I am the Beast."

At this, Belle sat up as well, warm brown eyes meeting blue as she asked, "No, your real one. The one you had before you were cursed."

The Beast hesitated, unsure if he was yet ready to reveal this part of himself. That word, that name, was a representation of who he had been, of the cruelty he'd had to endure and caused. Finally, he sighed, deciding he had already shared what venom he had held before and that divulging the name in no way changed what he had already revealed. "There was a time people called me Adam."

"Adam," said Belle slowly, testing the weight of the name on her tongue. Then she smiled. "Adam."

Adam couldn't help but smile timidly at the way his name sounded on Belle's tongue, no longer seeming to hold the malice and anger it once had coming from his father. Such innocent joy, pure happiness like a child tasting ice cream for the first time, the Beast felt a swell of affection for the woman who acted as though hearing his name had made her the happiest she’d ever been. 

At this, Belle resumed her position with her head perched on the Beast's lap and Adam continued to caress her hair. Out of the blue, as the Beast was just beginning to nod off, Belle hesitantly said, "Adam, you're the closest friend I've ever had. I just wanted you to know that."

Adam's fingers froze in their place entwined in her locks, and he swallowed thickly as his throat closed up with newly felt emotion.

"You as well," he managed to choke out, comfortingly running his fingers through her hair once more.

That's where they stayed the rest of the night until, for the second time, they fell asleep together by the fire.


	9. Father

They say dreaming is a way for your brain to go over the day's events, analyzing and committing them to memory. But sometimes, the brain recreates something that occurred in the past and stirs the pot, trying to dig up things that people try to keep buried. Things that should stay buried.

The Beast had fallen asleep happier than he had been in a long time. He had succumbed to the depths of slumber next to his best friend, his only friend. When Adam had told Belle his true name, his name from another life, from another man, a burden he hadn't known existed was lifted from his chest and the weight he seemed to have dragged for years had been eradicated from the single utterance.

His name sounded like molten gold in the voice of his Beauty, the sound something he could never forget. He longed to hear it again.

But even though the significance of the name had been nearly entirely transformed, there was no denying that others had used the name, or specifically one other, in the past: a past he did everything to avoid. A past that was almost constantly resurfaced in his nightmares as they haunted and plagued his dreams.

That night, the Beast dreamed of his other life, the one with a different type of curse, the one without love. He dreamed of the worst moment of his entire life. The moment he lost the only thing he had left.

It had been no secret his father had a temper, Adam had faced many a beating with fists and often a belt.

When his father had revealed that it was at his own hands that Amelia had died, something within Adam died too. For years, he had dreamed about running away, of fleeing the hell he called life, but he couldn't leave Amelia, couldn't leave her to suffer their father's anger in his stead.

But Amelia was gone. Adam had frozen when he heard the accursed words leave his father's lips, his blood in his veins turning to solid ice and he wondered if he would ever move again. Could people live if their heart itself died?

But the ice had quickly turned to fire, a blind rage seering through his body as his vision went red when the realization that Amelia wasn't simply gone, that this man, that this  _ monster _ had taken her from Adam, from this world, and from the life she could have had.

Adam had lunged at his father, knocking him to the floor as his hands clenched into fists, blow after blow striking his father's face until it was no more than a misshapen heap, until he could not feel his hands, until the blood rushing through his ears blocked out all else.

His father had tried to get him off, but Adam, in the prime of his youth at age nineteen, had the upper hand. He hit his father until his hands broke, until the older man blacked out, until he was unsure if the blood was his own or his father's. He hit his father until the pain in his heart was too much for him and he collapsed onto the floor as sobs wracked his broken body.

...

When Belle woke up, Adam once again had his arm protectively holding her to his side. He was sound asleep, but when she turned to face him, not bothering to remove his arm, she saw that his eyebrows were drawn together. Then he bared his teeth and growled.

His breathing was coming in short spurts now, and it was hot on her face. Tenderly, she stroked the spot between his eyebrows, trying to soothe whatever troubled nightmare he was having. Almost immediately, his body visibly relaxed and his breathing returned to normal once more.

She traced her fingers from the spot between his brows down his cheek and to his chest until it rested upon his rapidly beating heart. She held her hand there, surprised by the strength of the organ she could feel through his fur and chest, and was pleasantly reminded that though the two may have looked far from similar, the same thing beat within the both of them, driving each of them forward in life.

Adam awoke with his face inches from Belle's. His heart was still hammering in his ears, his nightmare still fresh in his mind, when he realized she had been trying to wake him. When he apologized, a small smile tugged at the corners of Belle's lips.

"The first night we met, you woke me up from a nightmare. Guess it’s my turn to tell you not to be sorry, and that we all get them."

The Beast grinned at the memory, wondering how there had been a time when the two were no more than strangers, and his smile softened and his eyes closed as Belle stroked his fur again, this time on his cheek and Adam closed his eyes, completely sated.

...

Though the day began differently than the usual, it progressed as it always did; Belle read and Adam remained in his private quarters most of the day, thinking about Amelia and gazing intently at her portrait as he so often did.

He wondered who she would be if she had gotten the chance to grow up, to  _ live.  _ He wondered if she would be similar to Belle as he often saw the parallels between the two. He wondered how different he would be if she was still alive.

As the sun began its descent, they joined for dinner and their nightly reading. This time, the book was about a young boy who lived with his father. The two had always gotten along since his mother died when he was a baby. She paused at the end of the chapter, gazing sadly at the book, longingly remembering her father and his kindness toward every person he encountered.

The Beast stared into the flames, trying to absorb the story and ponder what it would have been like to have a different man to call a father. His gaze flickered to Belle, whose eyes were downcast and clearly in pain. It hurt his heart to see such an expression on her face. "What's wrong?" he asked, absentmindedly brushing a curl from her eyes.

She looked up at him, eyes shining in the firelight, trying to give a reassuring smile, though sadness broke through. "It's nothing really. Nothing that you can help with anyway. I was just thinking about my father."

Adam hesitantly placed a paw over her hand, tracing abstract patterns on the back of it. "Tell me more about him," he finally said, not knowing how exactly to alleviate the pain she clearly felt, though he hoped talking about it would help.

"You already know most of it. He was the kindest man you could ever meet, he didn't have a mean bone in his body.” She shook her head fondly, smiling sadly. “He used to read to me when I was younger, and taught me to read as I grew even though it was frowned upon. And when I came home from the market, he would sometimes let me help, some new invention every day." She was still smiling softly, eyes glistening as tears began to trail down her cheeks.

Belle either didn't notice them or didn't care, but Adam couldn't bear to see the pain fragmenting her features any longer and softly brushed his thumb across both cheeks, wiping away the tears that lingered there. She gave a half smile in thanks

The Beast put a huge arm around her shoulder, tracing small circles with his index finger on her shoulder.

"It sounds like you loved each other very much."

She nodded, not trusting her voice for a moment but she inhaled deeply, sighing in the comforting warmth of the body beside her.

"Seems you're always cleaning up my tears," she said, chuckling despite herself, and Adam's chest rumbled with quiet laughter. Wanting to change the topic, Belle asked, "What about your parents? What were they like?"

The Beast hesitated, reminiscing times that had long since passed. "I used to think my mother was the most beautiful woman in the world, before I met you," he replied with a sheepish smile and Belle's cheeks reddened with the compliment. "And like your father, she couldn't hurt a fly. She loved me very much but she died when I was a boy."

"And what of your father?" she asked cautiously, hoping he would not close in on himself once again.

"Never mind my father," said Adam coldly.

Belle couldn't hide the hurt that swept through her at the hard tone he took but she didn't want to push him, knowing that he would shut her out if she pushed too hard, so she let the topic drop. She wondered what the man must have done to earn such anger in Adam's voice but she knew it was a long way off if he ever would tell her.

Sighing, she snuggled into the Beast and rested her head on his chest as they both laid down together in the protection of the other's arms.

...

The next evening, Adam and Belle returned to the library and continued their book. Belle read about the boy, who was now becoming a man. He and his father now fought more often and the chapter ended with the boy yelling harshly, "Don't talk to me, don't write to me, don't greet me if you see me in the street. I don't want anything to do with you."

Belle closed the book and mused out loud, contemplating, "I don't understand how anyone could do that to their father."

"I do," said the Beast quietly, almost unaware he was speaking out loud. Belle gave him a curious look but said nothing. Adam kept his eyes trained on the fire, deep in thought. "Some people aren't meant to become parents, and sometimes they take their mistakes out on their children who are helpless to stop them."

Belle understood what he was saying. After all, she knew a little something about helplessness.

...


	10. A Dateless Bargain to Engrossing Death

**** Belle and Adam grew closer and closer. They talked for hours on end, and Belle told him everything. Adam knew her favorite drink was hot chocolate, her favorite color was blue, and that she had her first crush when she was eight years old on a boy who was named Gavroche.

Belle wanted to know everything about the Beast as well, difficult though it was. It saddened her to know that something troubled Adam so greatly he could not seem to bear to talk about it, and though Belle longed to know what it was, she worried constantly that she would push too far and that she would ruin the friendship they had finally created.

She tried to believe him when he told her it was simply something he didn't like to talk about and that it had nothing to do with her, but a voice in the back of her mind constantly taunted her that perhaps he didn't trust her as willingly as she did him.

After all, she had told him painful memories herself, and while she had never gone into explicit detail of what her life with Gaston had been, she had never tried to hide it from him.

Yet all she had gained after several weeks of asking was that he liked tea in the mornings, his favorite color was the brownish red of Belle's hair, (Belle had giggled when he told her this), and that he hadn't gotten along with his father, though she didn't know why.

In the time she wasn't spending with her Beast or reading, Belle would often talk to Mrs. Potts and Lumiere. They were the servants she felt most comfortable with and she looked up to them in an odd sort of way as if they were her parents. Belle had never known her mother, but Mrs. Potts had treated Belle like her own child from the moment they met and Belle no longer felt she was missing that part of her life.

One day, while sitting with the Adam at lunchtime by their favorite spring, Belle interrupted their comfortable silence in which each was absorbed in their own thoughts.

"I know I haven't been here for more than a few months, but the last time I felt more at home anywhere was when my father was still alive. Everyone here... they're like the family I never had," she trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought with 'you're my family now,' or something equally as personal that would surely embarrass the both of them. "I just wanted to thank you... for giving me what I never thought I'd have again."

She looked down at her hands in her lap, flushing slightly though she was glad she had said it.

Adam shifted closer, their legs brushing as he settled beside her. He hesitantly reached out a hand, gently lifting her chin so her eyes met his own.

"This castle was never a home, not until the day you came," he said firmly, staring deeply into her eyes as if to ensure that she believed every word.

Belle smiled sadly and shook her head unbelieving; she knew he was saying this to make her feel better.

"No," he said, inching even closer to her face so that all she could see were his eyes and her vision was filled with ocean-blue pits. "It's the truth," he said, pleading with his gaze to trust his words.

Curiosity lightened the brown eyes and her eyebrows pursed together slightly in wonder. She still said nothing though seemed to trust his words now.

Suddenly, an idea seemed to light up her face and she sat up, a smile forming on her lips. "Perhaps we could invite Lumiere and Mrs. Potts to dine with us this evening?" she asked hopefully.

Adam smiled at the excitement on her face and nodded.

...

That evening, dinner was loud and full of heartfelt conversation. Mrs. Potts and Lumiere would playfully bicker at times, always with large smiles on their faces and one simply couldn't contain the giddy laughter that the evening evoked.

Wine was served and long after they had finished their meals, they still continued to drink, finishing more than a bottle between the four of them.

"I loved that boy since the moment he was born. He was always such a nice boy, always stepping around the ant lines instead of trudging his way through like most children. When he was little, he used to catch a ladybug or beetle and bring it over to me. 'Now don't hurt it,' he would say. 'just look.'" Her eyes shone with happiness at the memory, fondly gazing at Adam who was seated to her left, Belle across the table from him.

She reached over and patted his hand affectionately, eyes welling with love.

"After my mother died, Mrs. Potts practically raised my sister and I." Adam smiled fondly at the old woman, squeezing her hand in two of his own. But the Beast didn't realize his error until it was too late.

"Your sister?"

The room seemed to drop to frosty temperatures, everyone present instantly sober from the words Belle spoke. Tension and confusion radiated off of her, wondering why he had hid her existence from her. And what she had done for him not to trust her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she murmured quietly, the shock beginning to fade from her eyes leaving only hurt and betrayal behind.

"Not now, Belle, please. If you hadn't noticed, we have company," said the Beast coldly.

As soon as he said it though, Mrs. Potts and Lumiere stood from their seats and silently walked out of the room, taking the dishes with them.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she repeated louder this time, anger beginning to filter through the sorrow.

Adam's expression was a mixture of discomfort and exasperation. "It's not something I like to talk about," he said finally, a cold distance forming between them at his tone.

"Even to me?" Belle asked, her tone broken and wounded at the harshness of the truth.

"Yes, especially to you! Don't you get it? You can't get to know me, not that part of me. I died with my past a long time ago. I'm dangerous, I'm bad for you. What do I have to do to get you to understand that?" Adam was shouting now, and he hadn't realized he had stood and walked over to Belle until he was towering over her.

Belle looked frightened but her fear for once was quickly replaced by anger. She stood too, looking the Beast squarely in the eyes.

"I'm so tired of you closing yourself off to me. You've said you want to be my friend but that is a two way street. I've told you everything there is to know about me, even the things I had never told anyone before, the things I  _ don't like talking about _ !" she quoted his earlier words. "I don't know what I can do to earn your trust." She softened her tone a little and said, "I'm not going to judge you or hate you because of your past. I know who you are now and that's what matters."

Belle extended a hand, hoping to reach for Adam's but he pulled away from her. Again.

"Perhaps I am naive for thinking you felt the same for me as I do you. I'm sorry for ruining your dinner," she said and without another word, she nodded, avoiding his gaze laced with shame and guilt and exited the room.

"Wait, Belle, I'm sorry..." but she was already gone, leaving the Beast to his own miserable thoughts.

...

Belle changed from her dinner clothes into something more comfortable, namely the only dress that she had brought from her village, the one she had worn to the castle. She walked over to the library for a new book, wanting to distract herself from the fact they wouldn't be reading together that night, but nothing caught her eye. She scanned each shelf, feeling the many spines of all the books until one captured her attention:  _ Romeo and Juliet _ .

She picked it up, looking at it thoughtfully as a flood of memories surged through her, and decided to curl up in the armchair next to the window, the place she had sat the first time she read in the grand library.

She had been tempted to sit on the floor next to the fire where she usually sat with Adam. She told herself it was because she wanted to avoid being seen for the time being, but secretly she knew it was because the place was empty without him.

The Beast found her there, so absorbed in her book she hadn't heard him approach. Then he caught sight of the title; the first book they had ever read together.

He sat down on the floor next to her feet and rested his head on her knee. Belle cautiously ignored him and continued to read, trying to allow him to be the first one to speak.

"Her name was Amelia."

Startled by the broken silence, Belle looked up, both cautious and curious.

"She had reddish hair, like my mother's, and the biggest blue eyes you've ever seen. She was an angel sent from heaven... I used to think she was a gift from God." 

Belle remained silent, not wanting to discourage him from talking. She was now certain that the painting of the little girl in Adam's private quarters was little Amelia.

"My mother died giving birth, but not before she was able to hold Amelia in her arms. My mother's last words were 'she was worth it.' Amelia was the best thing that ever happened to me. She was so full of life, so kind and gentle. And so beautiful. I was worried I would have to beat the boys away with a stick when she got older," he chuckled sadly. "She was six when she died." Adam suddenly sobbed, overwhelmed with emotion. "I don't know... I don't know why they took her away," he choked out, his throat so tight he could hardly breathe.

He had never told anyone about her, and it was with great difficulty that he recounted her story to Belle. He threw an arm over his face, trying to hide his emotions. Then he felt a small hand, rubbing his shoulder soothingly.

"I'm so sorry," she murmured. "I'm sure she was lovely." Belle didn't know what else to say. She was glad he had finally revealed something about his past but it saddened her to see him so broken.

When the silent, wracking sobs stilled, Belle took his hand and squeezed. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me." She continued to stroke his arm, hoping to put into the touch what she could not with words. Hesitantly, she asked, "How did she die?"

Adam just shook his head, he couldn't share anymore, he worried that if she knew about his father she would realize he had become the same man, that whatever strange trust she had in him would dissipate when she discovered his past.

Belle just squeezed his hand once more and picked up the book. She knew her own words would not ease the horrific grief though she knew something had to be said.

"Oh, here will I set up my everlasting rest, And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars, From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last. Arms, take your last embrace. And, lips, O you, The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss, A dateless bargain to engrossing death."


	11. Shattered

Adam couldn't sleep that night. Never before had he revealed to another person that much about his past, and it terrified him. He was getting in too deep, allowing their friendship to grow even though he knew it wasn't safe for her.

He knew he would end up hurting her at some point or another, yet he had allowed his selfish nature to rule his actions and form a friendship with the innocent girl.

He needed to protect Belle, the only friend he had ever known, and the only way to do that was to stay away. But he simply couldn't send her away, even if it was for her own good. He was far too selfish for that.

So he laid in his bed, waiting for the effects of sleep to take him under its spell.

...

Though the evening had progressed in a way Belle never would have foreseen, she was beyond relieved to finally have chipped away at Adam's mask and to have seen a part of what he had hidden from her and the rest of the world.

Perhaps they were finally moving in the right direction. She shivered slightly in the empty chambers and in the emptier bed. It was cool and drafty, and she wished they had spent the night in the library as they so often had.

But he hadn't suggested it and since Adam had gone through such a troubling night she wanted to do what he thought was best. Though her bed felt too cold and too empty for her taste.

Resolving that she would not achieve sleep where she was, she quietly made her way back to the library and curled up with the copy of  _ Romeo and Juliet _ by the slowly dying embers. She poked the hot coals and shifted the wood until the fire was ablaze once more and within its heat, though it in no way matched that of the Beast, she succumbed to a restless sleep.

...

In the coming days, Belle didn't bring up Amelia again. She knew it had taken great trust for him to have revealed what he did and she hoped he would tell her the rest in his own time. Though she knew there was more he wasn't telling her.

Though she resolved herself to allow him to make the first move, she still longed to know more. Her curiosity burned within her, and she wanted to know more about the man he had been before the curse; she wanted to know why he had been bestowed with such an awful thing in the first place, but most of all, she needed to know who he truly was now.

...

The friendship that the two shared seemed to change significantly after Adam's confession. While Belle had been drawn far closer to the mysterious man who was slowly allowing her to get to know him, Adam seemed to try to be pushing away, frightened by how much their relationship had progressed. And though Belle fought to get even closer, to convince him to let her in, Adam continued to push her back, keep her away as though afraid of frightening her away if she got too deep.

But Belle was not one to give up easily.

One night after dinner, the pair sat on the floor to try a new book. Belle had chosen it at random, closing her eyes and feeling the spines until one struck her fancy.

This particular book was very plain looking with a light grey cover that showed its age through its wear and tear. Its title was printed in a simple, coal-black font, and though it didn't look particularly distinct, Belle knew better than to judge it yet.

She brought the book back to their spot by the fire and sat next to Adam, leaning slightly against his shoulder and reveling in the warmth and comfort his proximity provided.

She cleared her throat, opening to the first page and began to read. Adam closed his eyes to the sweet sound of her voice, a sound he could never get enough of, and allowed her words to fill his mind, clearing his thoughts of everything else.

His mind strayed from the story when Belle's narration revealed the book was about a young man that seemed to have borderline sociopathic tendencies.

The book detailed how his father had beaten him and whipped him with a belt, lash after lash until he was left bruised and bloody. The boy had eventually run away, unable to bear to live with the callous man any longer.

Adam tried to focus his gaze on the fire, attempting to dispel the unbidden images from his mind at her words but the memories kept coming the more she read, surging through his head causing his heart to pound loudly in his ears.

As the young man aged, his heart shrank, becoming arrogant and cold. He was now crass to the people who greeted him on the streets and those he had once called friends. Unfortunately for those around him, while the young man had an ugly, deformed soul, his exterior was breathtakingly handsome and he knew just what to say to get into some poor girl's bed.

Using his wit and charm, he had managed to get a wife, a beautiful woman, both inside and out. While the man had been kind and thoughtful before their marriage, using his charm to hide who he was beneath the mask, he soon let his true personality come to light. The heartless man would beat her relentlessly, trying to fight his own pain by forcing it upon someone else. He would take what he wanted, and gave nothing back.

And though the man was so horrible to her, so far from what joy she deserved, his wife never left him, always maintaining the hope that he could heal from his troubled past and become the man she knew he could be.

All the while Belle was reading, the Beast remembered his past, before his curse. The book reminded him eerily of himself. The only difference he could find was that while Adam had never taken a bride, he had hurt many people, unfeeling and uncaring of the damage he left. He had only ever raped one woman, and he would regret it for as long as he lived. 

He would remember the party for the rest of his life, the music, the booze, the dizzy energy the rom held, the way she had taken him by the hand and led him to a quiet, solitary room. They had kissed for some time, and she was in control, removing his clothing slowly, but she was also heavily drunk and not thinking clearly, neither of them were, but the Beast should have known better. 

When her eyelids drooped and her hands stopped reciprocating their caresses and she was mumbling things about doing this a different time, about being too tired, he hadn’t stopped. He had taken what he thought was rightfully his with no thought of the repercussions. 

Adam closed his eyes, turning his face away from Belle in shame.

Moments later, she slammed the book shut. "I'm sorry, I just can't... I can't read that horrible book any longer."

The Beast swallowed thickly but said nothing.

"It just... It reminds me so much of my old life, married to that horrible man. I don't understand how she can still have hope for him, there simply isn't a way to come back from that. And, worse still, he makes it seem as though what he does to that poor girl is justified because he had a rough childhood."

The Beast suddenly felt the need to defend himself. He knew Belle wasn't talking about him, but he hated feeling similar in any way to the wretched man she had called a husband.

"I know it's no excuse, but sometimes a person's experiences desensitize them from others and they forget how to empathize and realize that their actions affect other people. Sometimes kids are raised by bad people so they grow up to be bad people themselves...It's a vicious cycle, and no one can choose their parents... they can't help it..." he trailed off, knowing he wasn't at all helping his cause.

"Can't help it?" Belle raised her voice. "Adam, that man raped me. Over and over again. He forced himself on my every damned day of that year I spent married to him, and you think it's okay because he probably had it bad growing up?" Fire was flaming in the depths of her eyes and she couldn't remember feeling such an anger in her life.

Gaston had used her body for his own pleasure, inflicting pain without a thought, but even during the worst part of her life, it had never felt like he had betrayed her trust or broken a promise. Hearing the words coming from Adam was nothing less than heartbreaking betrayal. 

"No, I'd never say that, I just..." what was he saying? "I think that sometimes someone's actions don't always exhibit who they truly are on the inside."

Belle was standing now, looking down at him with a mix of anger and hurt in her eyes.

"How can you say that? How can you stand there and act like that? Take it from someone who knows, rape is the worst thing anyone can go through. It's worse than losing a family member, and believe me, I've felt that pain too. Rape is not only horrible because it is physically painful, which it is, but someone is taking away your free will, your most guarded possession, by sheer physical force. They are violating you, ripping you apart from the inside out and you have no power to stop it."

Belle was quivering with rage now, angry tears beginning to stream down her face. Adam was too stunned and guilty to say anything, knowing that he deserved every word she hit him with and more.

"Rape shatters you. It destroys your innocence and leaves you battered and bloody. It tears apart any self esteem you had before and crushes it, leaving you empty. It leaves you broken and alone. You have never felt what true pain is until you have felt that type of torture. Don't you ever tell me that such a thing can be forgiven, no matter the circumstance."

Belle clenched her violently shaking hands, trying desperately to take a deep breath.

Her words had cut him to the bone. He knew he was in the wrong, he always had, but hearing the words from the person he now cared about most had only reaffirmed what he truly was. He could no longer pretend to be something that he wasn't. He deserved to be deserted by her and treated like the monster he was. The Beast knew there was no redemption for what he had done.

"I am so sorry, Belle." He stood hesitantly and took a step forward to comfort her and ease his shattered heart but she countered and took a small step back, raising her hands protectively in front of her.

Her eyes portrayed the hurt and betrayal she felt and it sliced Adam's heart in half.

"I can't..." she said, turning away and shaking her head with confusion and disgust, exiting the room and leaving Adam standing alone, staring at the empty space she had occupied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much exposition, I know I'm sorry but it's important and at least there's some plot in there haha. Thanks for reading, if you like the story, please comment and tell me what to improve and if you find any grammatical errors. Thanks again.


	12. The West Wing

Belle had always been an observant person, the type of child to notice the things others wouldn't, the kind of child that made adults uncomfortable with her questions and constant search for knowledge.

And Belle was observant enough to notice that something had triggered such a visceral reaction in Adam when reading the story, though she knew not what it was.

There were so many things she didn't know, so many things he wasn't telling her, even after she had thought they had progressed so much.

And it hurt her to know he was still hiding things from her, almost as much as the defenses he had made for such an unforgivable act the night before.

...

Belle was still upset when she woke up, though her anger had lessened greatly and transformed into pure hurt that her closest friend couldn't see how his words had torn her apart. Her chest squeezed as she remembered the hot, angry tears on her face and the guilt and shame that marred her Beast's expression as she left him where he stood.

She couldn't bear to see that expression again, that face again, she simply wasn't ready, and for this reason she remained confined in her quarters, relieved to find herself undisturbed by the man that allowed her to stay there.

She received all of her meals in her room, thanks to the kindness of Mrs. Potts, and spent the day alternating between pacing around the desolate room and trying to distract her troubled mind with books with characters whose problems seemed to greatly outweigh her own. Though her thoughts would always return to the guilt that gnawed in her chest and made her heart sink low in her chest. She wondered what Adam was doing while she shut herself in her room like some hermit too afraid to face the world's problems.

Meanwhile, Adam was worried he had lost his only friend, the one person he had actually been able to talk to and connect with in years.

He hoped to whatever deity, force, and luck that controlled his fate that their friendship couldn't be over from that one fight. She was all he had left and though she deserved far better than what he was able to provide, he couldn't imagine going back to his life without her. He knew it would be the right thing to do, to convince her to go, but he couldn't do it. She was the first thing that had made him feel like a human, like a  _ man _ .

Thus he resolved to talk to her and attempt to mend their damaged relationship during dinner or perhaps after for their nightly reading.

His plans were thwarted however when Adam waited alone at the dining table, watching his food go cold as he waited for her to show. He ate nothing and when an hour passed, a sliver of hope encouraged him to wait for her in the library. Neither of them had ever skipped their reading before, and he tried to use this knowledge to calm his racing heart, but it was to no avail.

Belle never came, and Adam waited for her there all night.

...

The next morning, Belle felt she was ready to come out of her room. She joined the Beast for an early breakfast, and he seemed almost surprised to see her, not quite sure if she was planning on leaving. They said nothing for a long period of time, and briefly Belle was reminded of their first awkward dinner together.

She shook her head as if to dispel the memory and returned her gaze to her porridge.

"How did you sleep?" Adam finally asked, his voice cracking slightly from lack of use, trying to break down the walls Belle had placed in between them.

"Alright, thank you. And yourself?" Belle answered politely, glancing briefly at him but still avoiding his gaze.

A great jumble of emotions were swirling through Adam as they spoke, guilt and shame still tearing at his empty chest while a great fear he had only known once before that Belle had finally had enough and would leave him. He swallowed down these emotions and decided that honesty was the best policy; she would see through any fib he gave her.

"Quite horridly, honestly..." he paused, taking in a shaky breath. "I thought perhaps you were leaving. You-you had never missed our reading before."

Belle finally looked up at him, suddenly guilty for making him feel so horribly. Though she felt her anger was justified, she knew that Adam hadn't intended to cause her pain when he said the words, and communication would have been a more effective than isolating herself.

She thought about what she could possibly say to make him feel better, to perhaps explain herself, but the Beast beat her to it.

He continued, saying, "I fell asleep in our spot by the fire. Even with the flames, it wasn't warm enough for my taste." He tried some humor, hoping it would make her smile. It worked.

The corners of her mouth tugged slightly into a tiny, sad smile as she steeled herself to try to explain her reasoning and hopefully resolve the issue. "I wasn't ready to face you. I thought it would turn into an argument, and I hate fighting with you."

"I do too. Belle, I'm so sorry for the other night. You were completely right. I was trying to excuse unforgivable behavior and... you were right. I-I don't know what else to say..." he said, guilt still written on his features though hope was hidden in his eyes.

"There is nothing to forgive," she said smiling comfortingly. "You weren't defending your own actions, just trying to better understand a character. Of course you think... doing that, is wrong, I'm sorry I took it the wrong way."

At this, Adam stood and walked to her end of the table and took her hand in two of his own, examining it curiously as though it was fragile and would break if he held too tight..

"Promise me something," he whispered, pleading with her gaze to understand. She examined him with curiosity but said nothing, waiting for him to continue. "Promise me that no fight could ever ruin our friendship. Even after you... leave and start new somewhere, we will still be friends, won't we?"

"Adam, of course. Your friendship means the world to me and nothing could ever change that." Adam still looked unsure despite the comforting words and Belle knew he must have been lied to before. It troubled her to see how difficult it was for him to learn to trust.

“I know we never set a time for your stay or anything, but I want you to know that you can stay here as long as you want. And even if,” he cleared his throat, “ _ when _ you decide to leave, you are always welcome to return. Always.” 

Belle squeezed his hand and nodded, eyes wet with gratitude. “Thank you,” she murmured. 

They were both looking at their clasped hands when Adam interrupted her thoughts, reminded of something that he hoped would make her happy.

His head shot up and he said, "I almost forgot, I got you something from the gardens. It was on the dinner table last night, as an apology, but it will serve the same purpose now. He gently placed her hand on her lap and strode out of the room, returning a few moments later.

In his hand, he held an elegant, glass vase filled with water. It held only one flower, a single red rose. He had remembered, and the small gesture clenched her chest and she flew to him, overcome with emotion, and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Thank you," she said, her eyes beginning to fill. He held her gently in turn, almost as though she herself would break, and each wished time would stop. Never before had either felt so safe and so cared for and they wished the feeling would never end.

With these thoughts came the recollection that she would one day have to leave him. She couldn't stay here forever, could she? It was out of the question. The Beast knew Belle deserved a life, a life that he could not give her.

...

Belle was relieved that their friendship finally seemed to progressing as they overcame obstacles and arguments but she couldn't help but feel that their growth would remain stunted if he continued to hide things from her. He had finally told her about his sister, but it saddened her to know that she still knew little of his childhood and the man he had been before the curse.

With the new knowledge she had of Amelia and his mother she hoped to learn more by once again venturing into the forbidden area of the castle. Her curiosity and worry had taken over and though she knew she was in a way betraying his trust, she hoped that it would bring them closer together in the long run.

She was almost certain the portrait of the little girl was Amelia, but so many questions still remained unanswered, questions that could only be answered by returning to the place she was forbidden from entering. Who was the young man with the torn face and why was his painting shredded worse than all the others?

She watched out her window onto the gardens as the Beast exited the castle and began a slow stroll across the grounds. Now was her chance. Quickly, Belle bounded up the steps into the west wing, looking ahead of her to ensure she was alone, and entered the door that held Adam's chambers.

Once again she looked around, this time with more of a purpose, gazing at the nest-like pile he slept on. She ran her hand along the soft sheets as she walked deeper into the dark, gloomy bedroom.

She looked up at one particular painting she hadn't noticed before; a family portrait. The mother and daughter in the painting were untouched by the claw marks surrounding them. The man who had a hand gripping his wife's shoulder in a sort of warning had his entire face ripped off of the painting, so that she could only see his body in an elegant suit, clearly expensive in material and design.

Seated in front of the man beside the daughter was a boy who looked to be in his late teens. His body was torn like the father's, marred by many claw marks, but Belle could still make out a handsome face looking out at her.

His young face was grim with sharp cheekbones and an angular jawline that showed a strength but a pain that seemed to come from within. He had reddish hair like his mother and sister, and his deep blue eyes mirrored those of the girl seated beside him. Blue, Belle recalled, like Amelia's had been. Like her Beast's were now. Realization dawned on her suddenly and the knowledge knocked the wind out of Belle.

She stumbled backwards, hunched over and holding her chest as she attempted to regain her breath. Suddenly dizzy, she sat precariously on the edge of his bed. This boy, this sad, angry, grief-ridden boy looking down on her, was Adam. Her Adam.

She stood once more as her heart rate had returned to normal and walked to the painting, a hand hesitantly outstretched. Gently, she stroked two fingers across the painting, tracing the boy's face, his hair. She stood admiring his handsome figure, wondering at the cause of the pain lingering in his haunted eyes was, when the Beast suddenly burst through the bedroom doors.

Belle squeaked in surprise and quickly dropped her hand. Adam examined her hand now hanging by her side and wondered what it had been doing before he had entered. Anger and fear quickly filled his heart as he realized what secrets she could have uncovered being here.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, anger evident in his tone though Belle could see the panic in his eyes.

Belle swallowed thickly, wondering what she could possibly say to explain her actions. What was she doing here? How foolish she realized she had been. But she had come here for answers, and if Adam had been more willing to reciprocate the information on his past, Belle realized, she wouldn't have been there in the first place.

But still she said nothing, gazing with concern and dread at her Beast.

"What are you doing here?" The Beast was shouting now, angrily stepping closer to Belle. He towered over her and looked down upon her with a look of pure rage, rage that Belle knew was caused not only by anger with her disobedience but also the horror that she could know what he had fought so hard to hide about his past.

"Adam, I'm sorry... I just... I wanted to know more about you. You keep all these secrets from me, you refuse to tell me anything. I thought maybe I'd be able to find out more..." she said softly, hoping the rage would fade from his eyes but only saw them harden, growing colder as he pulled away from her.

"Belle, why can't you get it through your thick skull?! There are some things you can't know, that I can't tell anyone, especially you. Contrary to what you may think, you can't know everything! And betraying my trust and my privacy just so you could..." But Belle stood her ground, slowly trying to approach the Beast but he quickly stepped away from her. He needed to maintain their distance, show her that this couldn't happen.

"Adam, you've said that we're friends. I've told you every little detail about myself and you know me better than anyone. I thought that was the type of relationship we could have. But I can't understand why you always close yourself off from me! Stop shutting me out!" she shouted, desperately trying to break through his walls, to show him that he couldn't push her away.

"That's enough, Belle," said the Beast, his voice becoming deadly quiet.

But Belle's blood had already begun to boil, and she stood tall, emanating her frustration. "Why won't you tell me anything? Why won't you let me in? Why won't you accept that I want to get close to you, and it's my risk to take. God, you're so confusing! Sometimes you finally seem to be opening up to me and I hope that we can finally move past whatever has been holding you back, and then suddenly you're pulling away, hiding a part of yourself you're afraid to show me! I can handle it, if you'll just let me in!"

"Belle, that is enough," he warned again, drawing nearer to his breaking point, the warning clear in the hard tone.

"Stop hiding from me!" she yelled, stepping closer to him and grabbing his hand to keep him where he stood but her grasp was nothing like the gentle clasp on his fingers. It was wild, unsure, and desperate. "Why is your father so torn?" she asked, gesturing wildly to the family portrait, her voice breaking as her throat squeezed. "How did your sister die? What did you do before we met that was so horrible you can never tell me?!" Belle was close to tears, so angry her face was bright red, and her hands had begun to shake, quivers the Beast could feel in his still clutched hand.

"I said, THAT'S ENOUGH!" the Beast shouted, raising his arm as if he were about to hit her, shaking Belle's grasp off his hand. Belle cowered away instantly at the motion as though he had already struck her. She felt like she had been punched in the stomach, but his fist hadn't moved.

When the realization took over that he had not actually hit her, Belle stood and looked at him with horror. The hurt Adam saw in Belle's eyes was enough to bring him back to the present, and he looked at his closed hand, almost as if it were a separate being which he had no control over, and unclenched it before slowly lowering it, disgusted with himself.

Belle was still trying to process all that had occurred in a matter of seconds, almost unable to believe what her eyes had seen. She had believed with her entire being that the man before her was different from the one she had suffered because of for years. She had known that despite his outward appearance, he was kind and gentle and would never intentionally hurt her. Belle's tears, which had been welling in her eyes, now spilled over.

Adam took a step towards her, trying to comfort her but the damage had already been done, and Belle raised her hands protectively in front of her, scampering backward, unsure if she was more frightened or angry.

"Belle, no, I would never..." He shook his head vigorously with the words, trying to dispel the image of Belle's terrified face that would forever be imprinted on his mind.

"I can't believe..." she whispered quietly. "You would hit me?" She was so quiet now and her voice sounded broken, even to her own ears. "I thought that underneath you were still a man, but now I see, you really are the monster you believe yourself to be," and with that she took off, not giving the Beast a second glance. She ran and ran, out of the castle and past the gate. She passed many of her servant friends but didn't bother to explain.

She continued to run, knowing neither where she was going nor how she would get there. All she knew was that her feet had to keep moving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh it hurts so good I'm sorry


	13. Into the Flames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please heed the tags, if there is one you are unsure about, I will have a mild summary at the end so please skip ahead. I don't want to post spoilers here.

Belle didn't feel the ground as she ran, her feet crunching in the autumn leaves as she quickly fled, not bothering to spend another moment to get a horse.

As Belle fled the castle grounds, she had to keep herself from turning around and running back straight into Adam's arms. But then she would remember how those warm, safe arms had been ready to strike her only minutes ago, so she kept going.

A new pain, fresh and torturous sprang in her chest as she heard a roar of anguish from the castle behind her. The heart she had thought to be broken tore further and clutched desperately at her chest, trying desperately to claw out the pain that had eaten away her happiness from the inside.

She pictured the Beast, alone where she had left him, clutching himself and crumpling to the floor as sobs wracked his body and animalistic howls of pain escaped him.

But she couldn't go back. Not to that place, not to him. She was done being with someone who had the emotional capacity to hurt her.

So she urged herself to go faster. On and on, further and further, trying to rid herself of the man, the  _ beast _ , she thought she knew.

...

Adam stood motionless for several seconds, trying to grasp the emotions that threatened to flood through him if he allowed himself to move.

Try as he might, he could no longer hold back the wounds that tore through his chest as the hollow feeling returned to him, something he hadn't felt since she started staying in the castle. Belle had filled his heart and exposed him to what little humanity was left within him. She had seen what he had been unable to find within himself, and even with her, Adam managed to destroy it all. 

How could he have been so foolish? So selfish? Against his better judgement, he had allowed himself to connect to her, no matter how unwillingly. And now he had hurt her, as he knew he would. He had allowed himself to believe in the delusion that perhaps he didn't have to be a monster. She had seen a goodness in him, one that wasn't there.

His legs gave way beneath him and he fell to his knees, holding his head tightly in his hands as he no longer contained the anguished roars and howls that had threatened from the moment she left. The beast had already come out, and there was no suppressing it now.

His chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself, his lungs struggling to pull in air as he continued to express his pain in the only way he knew how. He roared again, a sound a broken mix between a howl and a cry, something that wracked his body and forced the misery into physical being. 

Adam couldn't let it end like this. He was too selfish to let her go, at least without explaining himself. Without trying to fix his worst mistake. He had lost a mother and a sister and he couldn't survive losing her this way. Unsure of what he intended to do, he stood up and rushed to the stables.

He swiftly put on a saddle and galloped after Belle.

...

When Belle lurched toward the ground before catching herself on a tree for the second time, she decided to sit down. She was a large enough distance from the palace that she was confident she wouldn't be followed if she was quiet enough, so she removed her shoes from her aching feet.

She sighed and rested against a tall tree, trying to catch her breath.

Suddenly, she heard some bushes nearby shudder. Placing a hand over her mouth in the hopes that whatever monster awaited her would leave if she sat still and made no noise, she gazed in horror as a being more fierce and more deadly than any of the ones Belle had pictured emerged from the brush.

Out of the bushes, to Belle's horror, stepped Gaston.

"Well, well, well. Look who decided to come back. Missed me that much, did you?" he chuckled. Belle was too stunned to reply and she quickly began calculating what her best options were. "I'm actually glad you're here," he continued, "I've always preferred brunets."

Belle didn't know what to say. If she made a break for it, she might be able to outrun him but he was sober and steady on his feet, and Belle had already run over a mile. If she tried to escape and he caught her, she knew the consequences would be dire, but it was her only shot.

She looked guiltily at the ground, playing the part of someone caught doing what they shouldn't but who had resigned to their fate, before darting to her left, but Gaston caught her quickly with his strong arms. Her feet were still sore and she was barefoot so as not to alert him of her plan.

But she was greatly outmatched physically and Gaston caught her as he often did, dragging her closer to him and squeezing her arms painfully in an iron grip. Unwillingly, her thoughts flitted to the Beast and how he always took great care to be gentle with her, thinking she would break if he so much as touched her, as if she was made of glass.

"Is that any way to greet your husband?" he asked taunting, enjoying the game. She pushed at his chest roughly, trying desperately to get away, but she knew she was no match.

"You seem to have forgotten what a wife's purpose in life is. Shall I reteach that lesson?" Belle stopped for a moment, frightened by the threat. She knew what was to come. Gathering what strength she had left, she screamed.

"Help! Somebody help-" Belle's cries were cut short as Gaston put his hand firmly over her mouth.

"Didn't those books of yours ever teach you about manners?" He smirked and pushed her roughly onto the hard, unyielding ground, maintaining his rough grip over her mouth while he squeezed her jaw.

Belle tried to bite it, but when she did as hard as she could, Gaston ripped his hand off briefly and backhanded her cheek. She screamed hoarsely once more with little hope of success.

"Belle you know nobody can hear you out here," he said condescendingly as he once more placed his hand over her mouth. He loved to hunt out of the earshot of anyone else.

With his free hand, Gaston began to push up Belle's dress. She swiftly kicked him in the shin and Gaston briefly let go of her mouth.

"Please, somebody!"

"Scream all you want, nobody is coming," he said, his anger quickly growing and he decided that he needed both hands for the act.

By now he had pressed her legs apart, and pulled his pants open and thrust into Belle.

_ Not again, please not again _ , she begged as her body was torn apart. She screamed in agony lungs threatening to burst. In between cries and whimpers, Belle begged him to stop, pleading that she wouldn't run again, but it was no use. Finally, she closed her eyes and accepted her fate.

...

The Beast rode in the direction he had seen Belle run. He kept riding trying desperately to find any sign of her, keeping his eyes and ears trained.

The Beast then heard a shriek, maybe a quarter-mile east. He squeezed his legs suddenly causing the horse to break into a full run. He saw red as he recognized whose cry it was and knew that whoever was causing those sounds was going to pay dearly. He urged the horse to go faster, praying he would make it in time as more sounds of pain followed the first cry as Adam got closer.

...

Belle tried to think of something, anything else to relieve her mind of its torture. She tried to study the lovely shade of red of the autumn leaves in the trees above her, remembering sadly that red had been one of Adam's favorite colors. She had acted rashly, she knew, and though she had every right to be angry, she had pushed him to his breaking point.

She had known Adam was a troubled man and couldn't help but think about how differently her situation would have been if she had simply stayed and  _ listened. _ Adam could never hurt her, and he hadn't, and coming as close as he had, she could see had torn him apart. But it was too late now, and if Belle survived she would spend her limited days with her husband, with only the memories of what true kindness and a gentle man could be to get her through the day. Surely Gaston wouldn't let her out of his sight now.

Suddenly, her husband's firm grip on her body was sharply removed, his body thrown off of her until she was left bare on her back, her breasts exposed as she breathed raggedly and sat up to see what had happened, unable to feel relief when she knew it was too good to be true.

She opened her eyes to see Adam and Gaston on the ground, each dealing the other hard blows, the Beast's claws slicing at Gaston's exposed flesh. Adam caught another blow in his hand and Belle was transported back to the night he had first rescued her from the cruel man. And despite everything that had happened, he was doing it again.

It was difficult to see who was winning because as soon as one would get on the top, the other would throw the higher body to the side and climb to the upper position again. Gaston's face was bruised and bloody and shone from a slight sheen of sweat, but it was more difficult to see if the Beast was hurt as his fur hid his wounds.

Gaston back stepped for a moment, trying to gain his bearings and as he did so, Belle could see the glint of metal in his right hand. Tightly clenched in bleeding fingers was a knife.

Belle cried out in horror as he plunged the blade deep into the Beast's stomach and she ran to him, trying to stop him. He tried to stab again but Belle grabbed his arm, holding on to it with her whole body weight, causing it to only graze Adam's chest instead of it going deeply into his heart. Gaston looked at her with disgust as Adam fought to remain standing, clutching the wound at his belly, and Gaston shook her off as though she was merely a minor nuisance and Belle fell to the ground hard, hitting her head on a large boulder.

She fought to stay awake, trying to remember what was happening, but when she saw Adam collapse to the ground, she could no longer feel the blood trickling from the back of her head and she picked up a fallen branch from a nearby tree and without a second thought, hit it sharply on the back of Gaston's head.

Gaston immediately collapsed on the ground next to Adam, knocked out for the time being. Belle ran to Adam and he tried to sit up before falling once more, clearly wounded.

He uttered one word before collapsing back onto the unyielding earth. "Belle."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Belle runs away only for Gaston to find her and rape her. The Beast comes, Gaston ends up knocked out cold and Adam has been stabbed in the stomach.


	14. Healing

"Adam," he heard in a dream, a dream filled with pain and loss. "Adam, please, wake up." The voice sounded so troubled, he tried to open his heavy eyelids but he lacked the strength.

Belle watched the lids flutter as she shook his shoulder in another attempt to wake him. She knew she needed to act quickly. He was suffering from blood loss and if she didn't do something, he was going to die.

Belle didn't know how she did it. Something took over her body, lending her more strength than she had ever possessed and woke the Beast long enough for him to stand with her help and climb onto the horse.

She hauled him over her shoulder, and for a few moments, Adam awoke and tried to walk with her. He carried some of his own weight, but he would have ended up on the ground again if Belle hadn't helped him.

Slowly, she led him to a boulder after she brought the horse next to it. The horse wasn't too high up, at least compared to the Beast's height, and somehow, working as a team, they managed to push Adam's limp body onto the end of the horse. She walked beside the animal, holding the reins, and quickly made her way back to the castle.

…

Adam’s limbs felt heavy he noticed as he tried to shift his arms into a more comfortable position. He could feel a dull throb of pain aching with his pulse, a pain that worsened as he awoke. His head was muddled and fuzzy, the inky blackness behind his lids pulsing with every small movement behind them. 

The pain in his stomach increased and he let out a choked gasp. What was that?

Then, the memories returned; a blade deep within him, a hard fight, but worse than all of that, the desperate cry of his Beauty, a sound that would haunt him for as long as he lived. He tried to sit up but the pain in his abdomen prevented him from doing so. 

As he grimaced and laid back on the soft pillows, Belle quietly walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. In her arms she held a bowl of steaming water and a small cloth inside it.

"I need to clean your wounds," she said quietly. Not waiting for permission, she walked over to him and helped him prop himself up on some pillows. "This may sting a little," she warned as she sat next to him and wrung the wet cloth out over the bowl. Gently, with a feather-light touch, she dabbed the cloth onto the wound of his chest. Adam let out a low hiss through clenched teeth, trying not to show the true pain he was in.

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling horrible that she was having to inflict more pain onto him. "This is all my fault. I shouldn't have left, I shouldn't have  _ screamed _ ," she added quietly to herself in a way that Adam clearly was not meant to hear, and she resumed concentrating entirely on cleaning his wounds.

With one finger, the Beast lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Please don't say that... you were right to run away, it's not safe here. But thank god you screamed, Belle, if I hadn't come, you..." he trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought. "Belle, something broke inside of me, seeing you like that. I would rather take a thousand knives than see you hurt that much again. I don't... I can't..."

"Shhh," she said, placing her fingertips to his lips. "Don't worry about me. I would have survived. You could have... died, Adam. You could be dead right now and it would be my fault." A steady stream of tears now fell down her face, and the Beast wiped them away. "You saved my life. Again. I don't know how I could ever repay you..."

Suddenly shy, she looked down again, and began to clean the torn flesh on his stomach, blushing in the process.

"Even if I had died," he whispered, "it would have been worth it, knowing you could survive and be happy."

Belle shook her head sadly. What a waste it would have been, losing his life to save hers. She was unworthy.

"You've made me a better person than I would have thought possible. You have the purest heart that I have ever known and I don't understand how you cannot see that."

Dropping the rag, Belle grasped one of Adam's paws with one of her hands, squeezing it gently. She trailed her fingertips over the fur on the back of his hand, tenderly stroking it in the hopes of expressing what words could not.

She continued to work in relative quiet with only the Beast's slight winces disrupting it, when he broke the silence unexpectedly. "I was four years old when my father first hit me." 

Belle paused her ministrations momentarily, wondering where he was going with this, before returning to her task.

"I can't remember what I did, probably broke something of value to him," he continued as Belle listened intently, not wanting to miss a single detail. "He was a hard man, a broken man, and he couldn't cope with that. The opposite of my mother. In hindsight, I think she was trying to make up for his cruelty in a way, she was so gentle," he paused for a moment and then rested his head back, staring at the ceiling. "Fists were bad, something about knowing that he is using his own hands to bring you pain... the belt hurt more but was far less personal."

He chuckled darkly to himself, almost as though unaware that Belle was still there, but she was, diligently listening, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought with her thousand questions.

"When a belt buckle contacts flesh..." he continued pensively, "there's not a worse sound in the world," he finished with a whisper, a pained expression striking across his face but this time Belle knew it was not from his external wounds. "But Amelia," he said, smiling sadly at the sound of her name. "He would never touch her. Not a single hair on her head. I was happy to take as many beatings as I needed to, as long as he didn't hurt her."

He paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath, then winced as pain shot through his chest.

"Do you want to know how she died?" he asked, more to himself than to her. Belle kept quiet, putting the now dirty rag into the bowl before setting it aside, for the time being finished tending to the injuries. She looked down at her hands in her lap, an overwhelming amount of sadness beating in her heart for her poor Adam. "My sister died at six and a half years old because she broke my father's pocket watch."

He swallowed thickly; he knew he needed to finish the story now that he had begun but it was nearly impossible to get the words out, as if admitting it out loud was killing her over again.

"She was an angel sent from heaven, she could never hurt a soul. Like you, she saw the best in me, better than I deserved." With these words Belle reached across the mattress and placed her hand on top of his. "I came home one evening and she was gone. She always ran to say hello when I got home and that day she didn't. I asked where she was, but even then I knew she was gone. My father told me she had drowned, but I knew she could swim as well as I could. Later, I noticed his antique pocket watch had a large crack down the middle."

The Beast swallowed once more, shaking his head. He had never had to tell the story out loud before and therefore had never fully processed his emotions, and the pent up feelings now flowed freely.

"I knew he didn't break it, it was much too valuable. Only one person could have. He beat the purest thing in this world until..."

Belle was overcome with empathy for this broken man, so many questions suddenly answered and she almost wished she hadn't pressured him to tell her, but it was too late to stop now. She squeezed his hand in her own, still listening without saying a word.

"She was the only reason I stayed with that man. I was nineteen, old enough to go and make a life for myself, but I couldn't leave Amelia with him. Without me, he would have to find someone else to... and I could never let him do that to her. She wasn't the only one who died that day."

He paused there, thinking back to the day that his heart died.

"I beat him until my knuckles bled. I was trying to somehow make up for the years of torture, but nothing could change what he did to Amelia."

Adam blinked rapidly, still unable to look Belle in the eye.

"She was all I had," he choked out. "She was my entire world and he took her from me... he could take my childhood and my innocence but he couldn't touch her. But I couldn't save her. I was too late, Belle."

"I'm so sorry," Belle said, unsure of how to comfort him.

"It was a long time ago, but after that... I was a different person. I hated myself and my hate festered until it took over me and how I treated people. I did so many bad things to so many good people. If I told you, you could never forgive me, just as I can never forgive myself."

Belle returned her hand to the Beast's face.

"Adam, look at me. Nothing you did in your past is ever going to make me leave again. It was a different time, and people change and grow. We have all done things we regret but the important thing is that we learn from them. Please don't be afraid to tell me."

Adam gently removed her hand from his face, gently placing it back in her lap before he adjusted to sit up slightly.

Refusing to look in her eyes, he began quietly, "Belle, I raped someone, it was so many years ago, but it will never be far enough in the past. We were both drunk and she wanted... but then she fell asleep… I will never regret something more, of this I am certain. It was before I became, this thing. This monster. But I was always a monster on the inside. I still am."

Belle would have been lying if she said she wasn't startled by the confession. She would never have thought herself able to have a connection with someone capable of such a thing. But Belle was too intelligent to judge the man she knew now based on a mistake in the past. She could see the overwhelming regret in him and she would have to be a fool to ignore it. Her heart hurt for her companion, and she hoped to alleviate some of that pain.

"Adam, for as long as I've known you, I have known you are not a monster. This doesn't change that. You made a terrible mistake, and you are still paying the price. But that doesn't make you a monster; it makes you human." She took his hands once more, trying to show that she would not leave him again, even if he tried to push her away.

Adam was unable to believe her words, undeserving of such kindness. He had allowed him to be selfish at so many points in his life and he knew that the right thing to do was still to pull away from her but he know he could never feel that solitude again. It was an anguish he was too selfish to feel again.

"You think too highly of me. I don't deserve your affections nor your friendship. You would be better off without me," he said in a half hearted attempt to tell her to leave while she still could. But he was fighting two parts of himself, the selfless side that wanted the best for Belle and that part of him that wanted to tell her to stay with him forever and that her companionship was the best thing he had ever had in his life.

But Belle was not leaving again. She had finally realized why Adam was the way he was, beaten and broken by a man he was supposed to look up to and love more than anyone. Adam had lost everything he loved most and a life without love did something to a person; it made them unfeeling and cold, yet the man before her now had grown out of those things, realizing his mistakes of the past, and that was a rare trait to come by.

Belle suddenly felt an overwhelming amount of emotion for this man who had just poured his heart out in front of her. She squeezed his hands again and shifted from her perch so that she and Adam shared a warmth in the cool bed. She looked into his eyes and implored him to believe her.

"You spent your entire life thinking you were nothing, but you are not the monster your father was."


	15. "Check"

**** Adam had never exposed himself to someone in such a way before. He had laid it all out on the line even though it could have meant losing her forever. The fact that she had stayed and was able to see further than his past only added to his knowledge that he didn't deserve her.

Because there was no longer such a burning secret between them it seemed there was nothing left to keep the pair apart. They spent more meals together, using the time in between to walk in the gardens, horseback ride, or simply talk by the lake and enjoy each other's company.

When the Beast recovered from his near death experience, he and Belle enjoyed long walks circling the gardens and showing Belle parts of the castle she hadn't yet seen. It seemed that once the most crucial bit of information had been shared, Adam could no longer keep the flood gates closed and thereafter wanted to share all of his knowledge, all of his experiences with her.

They talked about all things, both deeply personal and some that may seem minuscule to an outsider, topics ranging from Shakespeare's best sonnets to Adam reminiscing of the games he had once played with Amelia.

There seemed not enough time in the day to share all they wished and because of this they often slept by the fire together, not wanting to part even to sleep. Eventually, Mrs. Potts brought a set of pillows and blankets for the occasions they did sleep there.

One such morning after awakening together before meeting once more at the breakfast table once each had freshened up, the Beast suggested something they had never done before. When Belle nodded her assent with a smile he quickly bounded out of the room like a young boy being told he could have another helping of pudding.

She laughed with a small sound like the tinkling of bells as he returned with a large chessboard held carefully in his hand. Belle smiled at how boyish grin of excitement when he set the game down in front of her. She had mentioned once before that she had played with her father when she was younger but the topic hadn't been revisited since. Until now.

Quickly, he set up the board, placing the white pieces carefully in front of Belle before sitting behind the black ones. Belle sat with a finger on her lips, debating whether she wanted to say what she was thinking or keep it to herself.

"The player with the white pieces moves first," Adam said teasingly, a faux look of innocence on his face with his eyebrows upturned slightly as he tried to keep the smile off his lips.

Belle gave him a slight glare with a smile on her face before suggesting, "How about we make things a little more interesting with some competition?"

Adam was surprised but he didn't let it show. Instead, he smiled slightly and asked, "And what exactly did you have in mind?"

Belle pretended to ponder a moment before seeming to come to a decision. "When I win, you have to cook me dinner," she said, smiling confidently.

Adam laughed slightly, nodding his head politely before contemplating for a moment. He enjoyed this new confidence she was displaying, relishing the little game they shared. "Alright,  _ if _ you win, I will make you supper," he began as a playful smirk spread across his lips. "But, when I win, you will join me for a dance in the ballroom."

Belle placed a coy but contemplative look on her face before she nodded in agreement and outstretched her hand. "Deal, but I sincerely hope you are a good cook," she said playfully.

Adam took the proffered hand and shook it once before turning it and placing a delicate kiss on the back of her knuckles, smiling against the delicate skin there, and Belle could still feel the spot where his lips had been on her long after he let the hand go. When he released it, he shook his head tauntingly and said, "No, my Beauty. I hope you have a ball gown ready. I haven't lost in many years."

Belle pursed her lips against a sure smile and replied, "Then I guess we shall have to wait and see."

...

Adam smugly knocked over Belle's knight with his rook, raising his brows teasingly and took the knight off the board. His smirk fell when Belle took his queen calmly and placed it next to the other black pieces she had acquired from him.

A slight smile graced her lips and though Adam pretended to mourn the loss of his queen he couldn't help but feel elated by that single, small demonstration of her happiness. Happiness from playing with him.

He moved one of his bishops out in an attempt to take Belle's queen and set them on an even ground once more but Belle was three steps ahead and put one of her rooks into the row in front of the king. Adam moved the bishop again, ready for the next move in which he would take the queen if she left it where it was. Unfortunately for Adam, Belle moved the queen into the same row as the king and Adam's jaw dropped as he suddenly became aware of her plan. But it was too late.

"Checkmate," she announced, and the Beast knocked over his king as a sign of defeat, putting up his hands in surrender. She reached a hand out to shake his own in an attempt at good sportsmanship after a game filled with playful insults and smug smirks. "Mrs. Potts?" she called after they shook, and the old woman promptly entered the dining room.

"Yes, dear?"

"Please inform the staff that they will be having the night off. Adam is cooking dinner tonight," she said smiling victoriously once more, glancing over where Adam was trying very hard to maintain an annoyed expression.

Without looking at the Beast to confirm, Mrs. Potts expressed her gratitude and left quickly, leaving Adam glaring sourly at Belle.

"Oh, don't be upset," she said, placing a hand on his forearm. "How about this; if you would still like to, after supper we can still have our dance in the ballroom, okay?"

The Beast smiled contentedly at this, and nodded firmly.

Belle glanced at the clock ticking away on the mantelpiece next to the door. "Goodness, look at the time, it's almost sundown. And I need to get ready for our dinner and dance. I'll see you in a bit," she said and gave his forearm a final squeeze before letting go. "Thank you for the game," she whispered in his ear, sending shivers up his spine, and with that, she left, not awaiting his response.

...

Adam waited nervously in the dining room, unsure of what Belle was going to think of the meal. He had prepared, with the help of Mrs. Potts who was thrilled with the idea of the dance, a special pasta with olive oil and shrimp on top. He paced nervously, hoping she would like it.

As for his attire, he had dressed in a royal blue suit, with a yellow belt and lining. He nervously paced around the table, waiting for her entrance. He truly didn't know what to expect of the evening, he had never been one for close friends, not to mention the fact that it had been years since he had danced with a woman.

He had tried to make himself look presentable, relying on Lumiere and Mrs. Potts for help and advise in how to prepare himself for the evening. What a stupid plan it had been, asking her for a dance. They were merely friends and that was not something a normal person would do, and it was a miracle she had even agreed.

Pacing across the room once more, he wondered if Belle was as anxious about the evening as he was.

...

Belle's confidence seemed to abandon her as soon as she left Adam's company and began her ascent of the stairs. It was strange how aware she became of the calm his presence always held whenever he wasn't there. Already, she wanted to return.

But she still needed to prepare for their dance. Her cheeks burned scarlet as realization finally hit her that she would be dancing with him. She was excited of course to do something that would make her close friend happy, but at the same time she was nervous, knowing he had been raised in a household in which he would have been taught how to properly dance, what to wear, and more.

She had only the knowledge her books gave her. She hoped perhaps Cogsworth or Lumiere could give her advice as to what Adam would expect.

But first she needed to figure out what to wear. The first step to believing she could pretend to be an elegant lady was to appear to be so. With this thought, she opened the closet doors and examined each gown carefully.

She didn't know truly what she was expected to wear but she knew she would not want to be seen in something gaudy and flashy; it simply wasn't her. But she couldn't be underdressed.

Finally, she pulled out a beautiful, yellow gown, bright as the sun, completed with shoes and a ribbon to tie in her hair. It swayed as she walked, causing the light to shimmer elegantly as she moved.

She wore more makeup than usual, which wasn't hard because she rarely wore any. She had never been one to know much about makeup so all she did was darken her already brown lashes and add a touch more color to her pink lips.

Then she walked away from the mirror and slowly swept down the stairs to her waiting Beast.

...

Adam's nervousness abandoned him as soon as he laid eyes on his Beauty at the top of the staircase. She seemed to hesitate a moment but when their eyes met, she flashed him a shy smile that made his heart beat harder in his chest and began to descend the staircase.

Adam had never seen a woman of such beauty in his life. He had known so many noblewomen with fair hair and light eyes but Belle's beauty put them all to shame. The fact that she walked with a slight uncertainty only added to her charm and endeared Adam toward her further. She clearly knew not how lovely she truly was.

When she reached the bottom, she again gave him her shy smile and he extended his hand for her to take before bowing slightly and pressing his lips to her knuckles. He was silently pleased that he had remembered such manners without Mrs. Potts' reminder.

The Beast then stood once more and extended an arm to guide her into the dining room. Belle took the outstretched arm and revelled in the warmth she could feel passing between them through the small touch.

With a slight smile in the hopes of easing Adam's nerves, they walked together to the table.

...

The meal was delicious, Adam was proud to say, and the conversation flowed easily. He had placed a vase filled with red roses on the table, to which Belle had responded with a tight embrace. It was so endearing to see such a kind man beneath a reclusive exterior and Belle felt her heart pulled toward Adam. She was so lucky to have him in her life.

When they had eaten their fill, they walked arm in arm to the ballroom. Belle was presently surprised with Adam's graceful dancing skills. She herself knew next to nothing with what to do with herself but she was easily swept away by his elegant steps as he whisked and twirled her about. She couldn't remember ever feeling so graceful and confident of her beauty. She silently wished the night would ever end.

After dancing the night away, they finally retired to the balcony, gazing at the twinkling stars high above. It was a clear night with a full moon, the light bleaching everything of color and making her dress gleam silver. They talked until midnight at which point both knew it was time to retire, though neither would get much sleep without the other.

Adam opened his mouth for half a moment and almost asked if Belle wanted to sleep in their spot in the library so the night would not have to end just yet but he lost his nerve. Each needed to undress as well and he knew it was probably for the best.

Adam walked her silently to her door, each too lost in their own thoughts to exchange conversation. Adam quietly bid her goodnight, kissing her gently on the cheek, (and certainly not lingering at all), and left her at the doorway as she watched his back walk down the hall they had just traveled until he was out of sight. With this, she finally resigned herself to get into more comfortable clothing.

...

Belle tossed and turned in her sleep, thrashing beneath the stifling blankets as perspiration built upon her brow. She cried out from the phantom pain and with that she awoke, alone and drenched in her bed.

It wasn't the first time she had had a nightmare in the safety of the Beast's castle, although they were rare, but it was the first time she had awoken alone. This dream, like all the others, was yet another memory of her time with Gaston. As she often moved and made noise during such nightmares, Adam was always there to wake her, shaking her gently and when the tears escaped when she awoke, he would pull her into his protective embrace as sobs wracked her body.

He was always so gentle during such times, stroking her back and her hair and speaking kind words softly to her as her breathing slowly steadied. But Belle had no such comfort on this evening, one of the best of her life. She had grown so used to having him with her during her low points that they became nearly unbearable without him.

She tried holding a pillow tightly to her while sobbing quietly but she found herself unable to relax without the comfort of Adam. Before she could change her mind, Belle crept out of her bedroom and tiptoed silently to the west wing.

Without making a sound, she opened the door to the Beast's chambers and stepped inside. Carefully, she laid down next to him so as not to disturb his slumber before pulling the blanket she had moved slightly off of him over both of their bodies.

Resting her head then gently on Adam's chest, he shifted in his sleep and turned on to his side facing Belle. She was face to face with his huge chest and with a feather touch, she ran her fingers softly over the fur of it.

He mumbled something incoherently in his sleep and she froze and hoped that she hadn't woken him up after all, but for several seconds he didn't move again.

Then he spoke once more, and Belle was only able to make out a single word: "Belle."

Again, she thought he had awoken but looked up to see his eyes still closed. His lips formed into a small, content smile before he shifted his arm so that it was draped over her. Then he pulled her tightly to his chest, squeezing her protectively.

It was in his arms that Belle finally felt safe and she closed her eyes contentedly.


	16. Sunrise, Sunset

The Beast awoke warmer than usual which he soon realized was due to the fact that he hadn't slept alone. When he opened his eyes, his nose was buried in the reddish brown locks of his Beauty. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of roses in her hair.

Not wanting to wake her peaceful slumber, Adam didn't move. Her back was to him and he had a strong arm across her midsection. She held it tightly to her in sleep, as if it was the only thing keeping her attached to this world.

When she finally stirred, she turned around to face him.

"Good morning," she said blushing. "I'm sorry about this, I just... last night I had a nightmare and..." And what? He made her feel safe? She couldn't sleep without him?

"It's ok. I get them too," he said, smiling in memory of their first night together in the carriage and he had woken her from a nightmare. She laughed sheepishly.

She closed her eyes and Adam began to hesitantly remove his arm from her waist but Belle let out a noise of dissent and placed a hand on his wrist, stopping his movement away from her.

"Sorry, uh, do you want to maybe spend just a few more minutes here? I'm comfortable." And she loved his arm around her. But she didn't say that out loud.

But the Beast only smiled. He bent his arm so that he didn't have to remove it from its place on her side, and tentatively stroked her face with his large thumb. She closed her eyes once more and gave a lazy smile, never wanting to move from the place she was in during that very moment.

...

For some reason, probably because of the night they had spent together in the Beast's bed, even though they hadn't done anything, they both felt closer to each other. When they did touch, however briefly it was, their motions were often times less shy and they were less worried as to how the other would react.

That afternoon, after a lazy day spent laying by the fire, saying nothing, Adam and Belle decided to take a walk through the forest. The walk had been uneventful until they decided to climb the mountain nearby to see the view.

The path up was somewhat difficult, although the Beast had no trouble with it because of his long legs and clawed toes would catch the dirt and stones as they climbed.

Belle, on the other hand, was having a harder time.

To the Beast's credit, he was patient, helping her up stones and hills when necessary. Sometimes, there would be a step that was too large for Belle's short legs, so Adam would scoop her up as if she weighed nothing, and carry her up, gently setting her down when they reached firm ground.

Belle normally wasn't very clumsy, but she had no experience climbing so she had to go quite slowly to avoid falling. But even with her extra care, she came quite close a few times.

Too close for Adam's comfort.

After one particular incident, Adam became very worried. They had been walking along normally when Belle's foot had caught on something, causing her to lurch suddenly towards a cliff. The Beast had caught her hand in the knick of time, and after that he didn't let go.

When she had caught her balance, instead of pulling away from him, Belle simply entwined their fingers as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Which it was. His hand was at least three times the size of hers, but it still felt so right when they were connected in some way.

Belle could feel the electricity flowing between them and Belle could feel her heart pounding in her ears with excitement. She smiled up at him and he couldn't help but grin in response.

How could this amazing, intelligent, beautiful girl want to spend her time with him? Not that he was complaining. But he simply couldn't understand it. Meanwhile, Belle thought about how different this man was from those in her village.

Unlike what she would have first thought, Adam was kind and thoughtful and caring and sweet and sensitive and shy... the list went on and on. Then she thought about how lucky she was.

It could have been any waitress to see him that first night at Gaston's bar, and Belle had been the fortunate one to meet him.

Wonderful though he was, he puzzled her often. How could such a marvelous man want an odd book-loving girl? What did he see that made her special to him? Why had he chosen her?

Neither could understand why the other wanted them; yet another thing they had in common.

…

They sat together for what felt like hours, her head resting against his shoulder while his thumb on the hand that held hers gently traced circles on her knuckles while peacefully watching the sunset.

"Before the curse, where did you want your life to go? Did you want kids, a family?" she asked suddenly.

"I can hardly remember now. It was another time, another life…" he answered after a moment, still looking off into the distance.

"Well what do you remember?" she asked, eyes searching his face for the hidden answers that took time and trust to share.

"I remember having dreams of being able to finally have complete control over my life, with no one and nothing standing in my way. But since then, I had forgotten how to dream… that is until you came into my life."

Belle blushed, blood filling her cheeks with blissful contentment.

"And what of your dreams now?"

He hesitated before responding, "I imagine a life in which I'm not afraid to say what I feel. One where I am worthy of love."

He finally turned to her when she squeezed his hand, eyes open and honest in a way that she hoped communicated all of her sincerity. "You already are. The man I know you to be is kind and caring and generous and intelligent… I can't think of anyone more worthy of love."

The Beast began to protest, but Belle simply put up a hand.

"Just look around you. Mrs. Potts raised you as her own because she loves you like a son. And Lumiere… he has served you even when you were a different man, he has been faithful because he sees the man that I do. And I…" she trailed off, not quite ready to divulge her innermost feelings. "How can a man who has saved me from unthinkable things multiple times be unworthy?"

Even with Belle's encouragement, Adam was still hesitant to believe her, too weighed down by the guilt of his past actions.

"I have done those unthinkable things. I almost did them to you! That was the reason you ran, remember?"

"But you didn't hurt me… Bad men don’t regret their actions of the past, they don’t repent the pain they’ve inflicted on others. You are a different man now. You took me in when we were only strangers, and yet you took care of me as if we had been friends for life. Which, ironically, we are now," she said, squeezing his hand.

"But will we be friends for life? You have your entire life ahead of you, and I'm unsure that I can provide you with the life you deserve.'

Belle looked Adam straight in his startling blue eyes and said softly, "But you're the life I want and I have no desire for a life without you in it."


	17. Thaw This Frozen Heart

Winter came on quickly. The grounds were covered with snow, and briefly, the Beast thought about the times he would go to the frozen lake with Amelia. He watched with a fond smile as the small flakes of snow would catch on Belle’s lashes and in her hair, startlingly white against the deep brown.

She lifted her face to the sky and laughed almost like a child, opening her mouth to catch the small wisps of snow on her tongue. She laughed victoriously as she caught one, showing her tongue to Adam proudly as the small speck faded to nothing as it melted in the heat of her mouth. 

He gave her a smile but it was laced with sadness, memories and the knowledge that he would never do this with Amelia again pulling at his chest. 

"What are you thinking about?" asked Belle, interrupting his train of thought.

Adam smiled wryly at having been caught; she was too observant to not notice the shift in mood. "Just how Amelia and I would go skating on the lake nearby when we were younger," he said with a sad smile.

Belle smiled comfortingly and placed a small hand on his forearm, squeezing gently. He smiled gratefully and then paused for a moment, wondering if they would be able to fashion what he needed for his size of foot. 

"Would you like to skate with me?" he asked with a crooked smile. 

Belle laughed, then said, "I have never gone before, but it sounds like fun."

"I'll teach you," said the Beast, a playful smile teasing his face and he raised a brow as if to say ‘trust me?’.

Belle laughed again, surprised by how boyishly carefree he suddenly looked. "It would be my pleasure," she finally responded.

…

Adam had looked in many rooms throughout the castle before finally finding two pairs of skates. The two walked happily to the lake, hand in hand, bundled up to keep warm from the snow. 

“Almost there,” Adam murmured in her ear, his breath hot on her cool neck compared to the frosty air and she shivered at the sensation. Adam paused and tightened her coat around her shoulders without a word, worry maring his features. 

“Thank you,” she whispered and he gave her a soft smile that created more warmth in her chest than any amount of coats ever could. 

...

They had a wonderful time. Belle had fallen too many times, finding that she was much better suited indoors, but she still couldn’t help but laugh every time she lost her balance and landed in increasingly embarrassing positions. 

She fell down hard on her bottom and Adam laughed once he saw she was not seriously injured, and in revenge, as he reached out to help her up, she used her entire weight and strength to yank him to the ice as well, only to find herself even more embarrassed as Adam fell between her spread legs, his hands braced on either side of her face. 

Their faces couldn’t be more than a couple inches apart, mingling breath hot between them, and Belle’s heart pounded in her chest as neither dared move and disturb the moment. It almost seemed, for a moment, that Adam was leaning in, but he suddenly became aware of his actions and quickly pulled away. 

Belle shook her head to clear the thoughts swarming around, her face warm despite the cool air, and she let out a laugh to relieve some of the tension. Adam joined her and as he started to get up, she pushed him down to get up herself, and the two messed with each other until their stomachs hurt too much from laughter. 

Eventually, Belle had gotten the hang of it and was now able to do it without holding Adam's arm. She circled the lake over and over, and zigzagged through the middle as Adam clapped and laughed as he watched his personal show.

Finally Belle stopped in the center of the lake and attempted to give a small curtsy and acted as if she was bowing to a large audience, crying, "thank you, thank you."

But, while she was doing this, Adam laughed so hard he slipped, falling backwards and collapsing in a fit of laughter. The Beast heard a loud crack and looked up, worried that something was wrong.

He frantically searched for Belle, who was nowhere to be seen.

Then he noticed a large hole in the ice where Belle had been standing only moments ago. The ice had broken beneath her weight and Adam scrambled across the ice towards the gaping hole.

He watched as Belle struggled for a few moments, trying desperately to get out, before the cold took over and she passed out. Adam bent down, trying desperately to grab onto anything he could reach to get her out. By now, Belle was knocked out cold.

Without another moment's thought, he jumped in after her, hauling her limp frame onto his back and climbing out of the cold water using his claws to his advantage. The ice cracked underneath their combined weight but his feet found the surface of the ground and used it to push her to the edge of the lake. He laid her on the bank and shook her.

"Belle?" he cried, but she gave no response. Her whole body was as cold as ice, and her lips had turned blue. All of the color in her face had washed out, leaving her pale and sickly looking.

He tried to feel for a pulse but found nothing. He couldn't bare the thought of losing Belle so he instead focused only on getting her back alive. He shook her again, and rubbed her arms up and down, trying to get her her blood flowing again.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes and coughed violently onto the bank, choking out the water in her lungs. When she had finished, she once again rested her head on the hard ground and weakly reached a hand up towards her Beast, only for it to fall back to the ground as she fainted once again.

Again, Adam lifted her into his arms and ran as quickly as he could back to the castle.

"Stay with me, please don't leave me... Oh God."

He had never been so frightened in his life, not even when his father had beaten him within an inch of his life.

...

Belle had never been so cold in her life. She felt as though death had come to claim her and she had somehow escaped its grasp, but not without feeling its cold, lifeless hand on her skin, touching her body, pulling her towards him.

She had been so tempted to give; it would have been so easy to just sleep. But a warm voice kept calling her back, bringing heat and life back to her chest and convincing her that she was needed, that she had to keep living.

Belle awoke in her bedroom with a fire blazing in the corner. She was covered in at least four blankets, maybe more. She blinked wearily and when the spinning room slowed down, she looked over to the armchair at her side where the Beast was gazing at her intently.

"You look awful," she finally said, laughing. He was in the same clothes he had been when they had gone skating. His fur was untamed and his eyes held a fear that Belle had never seen in anyone before.

"How do you feel," he finally asked her.

"A little tired, why?" She still couldn't understand what his concern was for. Why was he in her room? Why was he still in those warm clothes when they were inside... "What's wrong, Adam?"

He paused, unsure of how to phrase his next sentence.

"Belle," he said hesitating. "You've been unconscious for four days."

Belle looked at him, startled. Then it came flooding back. Her fall, her body going numb, feeling like she was drowning. She put a hand on her throat and took a deep breath, trying to assure herself her lungs still worked.

Adam looked at her, worry and concern etched on his face as he immediately stood at her distress.

"Hey, but it's ok. You're ok..." He took a seat next to Belle, careful not to get to close, almost as if he was afraid he would break her. 

She closed her eyes momentarily to center herself once more. "I'm alright now. You... you saved me. You saved my life. Again..."

Adam shook his head. Then he broke down, face crumpling as he seemed to release the tension that had built over the days.

"I was so scared... I didn't know what to do... I just carried you back, thank God Mrs. Potts knew just how to get you back. At one point, you're breaths were so shallow... and then you didn't wake up. But she didn't give up one you. She nursed you back to health," he said, refusing to meet her gaze. "I don't know what I would have done… I need you here… you keep me in the light. Around you, I'm not a monster. You make me feel like a man again." Belle reached out a hand and softly stroked his face, repeating over and over that she wasn't going anywhere.

"I'm here as long as you need me," she assured him.

Then he sat up, looking at her with his big blue eyes and giving her a shaky smile. "I don't know if I'll ever stop needing you," he said, looking down, timidly.

Belle smiled and blushed slightly.

Adam put a hand up to her face and said, "I'm glad there is color here again."

Belle blushed even more, saying nothing.

"I'm so glad you're better now," to which Belle responded with an enthusiastic nod.

"God, I'm simply starved," she said, beginning to sit up but pausing when the room began to spin.

"No, don't try to sit up, you're still not completely better. I'll fetch Mrs. Potts to make you something to eat."

"Thank you..." she said smiling.

Then she noticed how hesitant he was to leave the room.

"Adam, I'm ok. Truly. Go get some sleep and something to eat. You look terrible."

He gave her one final look of concern before finally nodding. Then he exited the bedroom. Mrs. Potts entered a few moments later, carrying trays with more food than any one person could eat.

"Oh, you're looking so much better. How are you feeling, dear?" she asked with a knowing smile.

"I feel okay. Just hungry and a bit dizzy."

"That's understandable. Don't worry, a few more days of bed rest and you'll be back to your old self," she said cheerily.

She set the food around her on the bed and commanded her to eat. While Belle dove hungrily into the meal, they spoke about what had happened over the last few days.

"Oh, the Master was miserable. He didn't eat, didn't sleep... Never left your side, dear. Whenever I would tell him I would watch over you while he took a break he would just say 'I'll watch her with you.'" Mrs. Potts rolled her eyes. "Such a stubborn boy, that one," she said with a smile.

Meanwhile Belle was startled. He hadn't eaten or slept? That was ridiculous. She was fine, and that wouldn't change whether he was in the room or not.

"You know he spoke to you while you were asleep," Mrs. Potts said suddenly. "He would tell you how you were going to make it then demand that you not leave. He said you weren't allowed," she laughed.

Belle's response was to look at the older woman wide-eyed.

"He really cares about you my dear," she said caressing Belle's forehead. "I've never seen him look at anyone like he looks at you, and I've known that boy since birth."

"I care about him too," Belle responded, knowing that there weren’t enough words to portray the extent of her emotions. But the way the older woman was looking at her told Belle she already knew. 

"I know you do. I can see it in your eyes... like he's the only thing keeping you anchored to this world," Mrs. Potts said with a smile of understanding.

Belle smiled too. She couldn't help it, thinking about how much Adam had shown he cared for her as well.

"That's because he is."


	18. Tale as Old as Nightmares and Liquor

Belle stayed in bed for several days. She was exhausted much of the time and very rarely hungry.

Whenever she would refuse to eat, she would look at Adam's worried face and take a few bites for him. She couldn't stand to see the pain she caused him and she couldn't help feeling responsible.

The Beast very rarely left her side. He ate with her and occasionally slept beside her in the armchair he brought in. 

One evening, Belle shivered under the mountain of blankets. Adam had been reading to her, as he did most of the time that Belle was awake. He looked at her concerned. He stood up to go poke the fire, but it was already blazing.

Unsure of what to do, he turned to find something to keep her warm. "I'll go get you more blankets," he finally said.

"No, don't leave," she said, a note of desperation in her voice. "Lay with me, you can keep me warm." She shifted to make room for him.

His face showed his conflict for a moment but he eventually sat down next to her on the bed, careful to not get too close, not wanting to smother her or injure her. Ever since the accident he had looked at her like she was glass. He worried she would break if he was too close to her.

Belle rolled her eyes and lifted the many blankets beneath him, trying to encourage him to get beneath the covers. A shudder wracked her body at the lifted covers but she stubbornly kept them up, eyes pleading as she waited for him to move. 

He sighed but did what she wanted, quickly pulling the blankets back up over them.

He was careful to leave her room, lying as far from her as he could, but Belle was having none of it, and she snuggled next to him, still shivering.

He tentatively put a large arm around her and gently pulled her close, pressing his face into her gorgeous brown locks. She fell asleep almost instantly, finally warm and content in the arms of her best friend.

...

Belle eventually became well again. She was still tired often, so she and the Beast didn't take many walks anymore. He still refused to leave her side, either sleeping with her or watching protectively from the armchair next to her bed.

They played chess many times and Adam would read to Belle every morning and before she went to sleep. He was so afraid to leave her, worried that she may become ill again while he was gone.

When Belle was finally back to herself, the Beast relaxed a bit.

They went back to sleeping in separate chambers once more. Belle felt guilty that she had become such a burden to him and didn’t want to suggest he continue their sleeping arrangements after not giving him a choice for nearly a month. She could see the worry and lack of sleep etched into his face.

She needed to give him his space, no matter how much she missed his presence in the cold darkness of the night that even the fire could not chase away. 

...

As spring came, and Belle and the Beast resumed their friendship as normal. It was as if the ice skating incident had never happened, and the change relieved Belle. Spring was Belle's favorite time of the year. It was warm out but not hot and Belle could enjoy the beauty of nature around her; the budding grass, blooming flowers… It truly was spectacular to behold, especially with the wide expanse of Adam’s gardens.

She and the Beast went walking, and Adam would point out different types of flowers as they went, his knowledge and excitement on the many species endearing.

"That is the blue morning glory. These are pink but my favorites are the deep purple colored ones. Come, I'll show you," and with that he took her hand and pulled her to the next set of flowers.

Belle smiled, loving how carefree he seemed. She was fascinated by nature and it delighted her that Adam took such an interest in these flowers.

"And that over there is a champagne orchid. That color looks so beautiful on you... but so does every color," he said, once again turning to her with a blissful smile.

Belle laughed merrily and squeezed his hand, and the Beast felt very proud of himself. He had just made her laugh. He felt like he could walk on air.

"How did you come to know all of these flowers? Were they in your books?" she asked as they rounded another corner. 

"My mother taught me. She would take me into the gardens and show me what the different flowers were named," he looked wistfully off into the distance. Then he shook his head and continued walking.

"And this," he said stopping in front of rose bush, "you already know." He then picked most magnificent red rose he could find. He tore off the thorns with his claws and handed it to her. "A beautiful flower for a beautiful lady." 'My beautiful lady,' he thought before looking down, embarrassed by his thoughts.

Belle blushed and took the flower. Then she walked back to the morning glory flower and picked a deep purple one. "And here is a beautiful flower for my beautiful Beast," she said smiling.

But the Beast only looked down. He was not in any way beautiful and he appreciated Belle's attempt to make him feel handsome, but he knew it wasn't true.

Belle looked at him sadly. "Have I ever lied to you?" she asked.

Adam shook his head.

"And I'm not now. You are quite beautiful to me." Then she placed a hand over his quickly beating heart, illustrating what she meant.

His pulse quickened by the contact and Belle smiled.

"My Beast and his beautiful heart."

...

One warm evening, Belle and the Beast had spent the night on the balcony, enjoying the view of the stars. They pointed out different constellations, and told stories about how they came to be. Some they retold and others they made up.

"And that's Orion. You see those three stars? They are his belt, there are his feet, and he's holding a bow and arrow. He chases after the three maidens Zeus, lord of the sky, put into the sky to protect them from Orion. Orion wanted them for his own and Zeus pitied the maidens. When Orion died, Zeus felt sorry about taking away Orion's lovers so he placed him up into the sky as well, destined to hunt the maidens for eternity."

...

The Beast often had dreams of his past life. Sometimes they were joyful, memories of playing with his sister, building a snowman...

Other times they were unpleasant. He would dream of the horrible things he had done to other people... and what his father had done to him.

But the worst ones were always the ones of his childhood. His mother’s last breath escaping her lips as exhaustion finally won, the last bit of light from her eyes fading until they looked like pale, blue glass. His father’s skull cracking beneath his bloody knuckles, a mixture from his own wounds and his father’s bleeding face. The same blood with each case. His sister...

The worst were the dreams where Adam watched helplessly, his feet rooted to the ground, as his father pounded the life from Amelia’s lifeless form. And when his father’s body, bloody beneath his own, suddenly became his sister, dull eyes looking up at him just as his mother’s had. 

The Beast awoke trembling in a pool of his own sweat. He panted, trying to clear his muddled head. He was alone, unable to feel Belle’s calming presence or her small hand on his face, running through his hair in such a tender and gentle way...

He put his hands up to his face, trying in vain to calm his erratic breathing. When he realized that trying to sleep was hopeless, he stood up, hoping some fresh air would clear his thoughts.

When he passed the kitchen to get to the grounds, Adam changed his mind and decided a drink would make him forget. Or maybe two.

...

Belle awoke to a loud crash downstairs. Startled, she went to see who or what was making the noise. She considered finding Adam or one of the other members of the castle but she decided to make sure it wasn’t something from a dream first. She quietly rounded the corner, nervous to see who it was.

But she needn't have worried for it was only the Beast who had knocked over a glass vase. He was stumbling around, unsure of where he was going.

"Adam?" she called. "Are you well?"

He turned around to look at her and clumsily made his way towards her. "Belle," he said with a grin, as if her presence had made him the happiest man in the world.

Belle began to ask if he was feeling alright when she saw the liquor sitting on the table. He was drunk.

For a moment she worried. When Gaston came home in this state he would often beat her or worse. But Adam was not Gaston, she reminded herself.

"Look at you," she said and sighed, beginning to take a step towards him.

"No," he replied. "Look at you." He shook his head in wonder. Belle lifted his arm around her shoulder.

Belle knew that the Beast would not be able to get back to his chambers on his own, and it would be too difficult trying to get him up stairs, so she decided to take him to the library.

She laid him down with the blankets and pillows.

"Trying to get into my bed already?" he said laughing.

Belle shook her head in mock disapproval and smiled. She pulled a pillow under his head and a blanket up to his neck. After kissing his forehead, she turned to go.

He sat up again suddenly, eyebrows furrowed. "Wait," he called. "Will you stay with me? The nightmares stay away when you're here..."

Belle looked at how sad and boyish he looked. That must have been why he was drunk. He must have remembered something in his painful past and needed to drown his sorrow.

"Ok," she said and got under the covers next to him. They laid facing each other and he placed a large hand on her cheek. She smiled and leaned into his palm, enjoying the feel of his hand on her skin.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, as if he wasn't sure she was real.

Belle blushed and looked away. Adam leaned in, bringing his mouth closer to hers. Belle looked up and their faces were less than an inch apart.

"My Beauty," he whispered, his breath caressing her face.

The Beast began to pull her face to his but Belle, realizing his intent, stopped him. "Not tonight," she said quietly. "You're not yourself."

Adam frowned slightly, then moved his arm down to Belle's side when his breaths became even as sleep overtook him.

Belle had wanted so much to kiss him, but she knew it would be wrong. He would never do this when he was sober, and the alcohol was probably the only thing influencing him. They had developed such a strong friendship and it would break her to ruin it over one drunken kiss.

But Belle continued to reflect and realized alcohol didn't change the true feelings of people. It didn't make people liars; it made them honest. But if that was true... then the Beast sincerely felt that way. Like her, he must have been too scared to admit it, but the liquor lent him bravery.

She looked at him as he slept, so peaceful and content, and an emotion that had been dormant for so long awoke within her. She gently stroked his face, careful not to wake him, and drifted off to tranquil, dreamless sleep.


	19. Odd?

Adam was worried.

He didn't remember much of what had happened the night before, and Belle didn't give many clues. He knew he had the tendency to reveal more than he would like when he was drunk, and he feared what he may have said to Belle.

He hadn't planned on becoming so intoxicated, but after each drink he felt more and more numb to the world and he revelled in it. He forgot his worries, his past, his deformed body. He was able to ignore everything.

But unfortunately for him, Belle had found him. She had taken care of him, put him to bed, and had fallen asleep at his side. All of this would have been fine, but there was still one problem; what had he told her?

He wasn't comfortable revealing his innermost emotions, especially since he knew they could never be reciprocated. He knew Belle very rarely hid anything from him but he knew she was withholding something now and it only added to his worry.

"Belle, what did I say last night?" he asked for the thousandth time.

"You said, and I quote, 'will you stay with me? The nightmares stay away when you're here.' You have nothing to worry about." Belle hadn't bothered to mention his attempt to kiss her nor him calling her 'his Beauty.' But what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

She knew if she told him all he had said and done it would embarrass him, and probably discourage him from doing anything like that in the future. So Belle withheld a portion of the truth. Adam huffed a sigh, finally giving up.

He worried he had said his true feelings for her, but he found it likely that she would tell him if he had said it. That way she could tell him to back off. He felt slightly better with this knowledge and for the time being, let her be.

...

During a leisurely stroll through the gardens one morning, Adam and Belle walked hand in hand, saying nothing. Adam was focused on how impossibly happy he was at that very moment and how he wouldn't change a thing.

Belle abruptly shattered the silence, asking, "Adam? Do you think I'm... odd?" She looked so fragile, so exposed at that moment and the Beast was shocked.

"Odd?" He was so confused. Where had this come from?

"Yes, odd. Because I like books... because I can play chess..."

She looked down at her feet and took her hand from his, kneading them in front of her. Adam immediately felt the loss and to be frank, was outraged that this beautiful, amazing, smart, kind, funny girl... could feel she was anything less than perfect.

"Belle look at me," he said, placing a hand on her chin, forcing her to look up. "I would not change a single hair on your head. You are the most amazing, intelligent,  _ perfect  _ woman I have ever met. Never, ever, think otherwise."

Belle gave a small sad smile as if she was trying to believe his words but was finding it difficult. He continued, trying to persuade her he was telling her the truth.

"Before I met you... I was a monster, a beast. I hated myself and the world around me. Then you came into my life and showed me there was another way. Around you, I'm not the beast. I'm just a man. Just Adam." He smiled and took her hand in both of his. Then he brought it to his lips and whispered, "your Adam."

...

That night, Belle read from a book of Greek Mythology. She had begged him to read her favorite story,  _ Psyche and Cupid. _

"Aphrodite, jealous of Psyche's immense beauty, commanded her son, Cupid, to make the girl fall in love with an ugly, cruel husband. Cupid, as he was preparing to carry out his mother's orders, looked at Psyche and was startled by her godly beauty. Accidentally, he pricked his finger with his own arrow and fell deeply in love with the girl. He flew her to a safe home where she would be safe from Aphrodite's wrath. There, he told her they would never meet in the light for she could never look upon him. He wanted her love for him to be true and not because he was a god. The two fell in love after many of Cupid's visits during the night. Psyche eventually grew curious as to who her lover was and why she wasn't allowed to see his face. She held a lantern to his face while he slept and inadvertently touched his arrows, causing her to fall even more in love with her lover."

Belle closed the book, searching Adam's face.

"Did you like it?" she asked hesitantly.

The Beast wasn't sure what he thought of it. The story made him feel almost jealous of the love god. Cupid was as handsome as men got, so naturally he won the most beautiful girl.

But it was Belle's favorite story... did she believe that only beautiful people could love other beautiful people? She couldn't. After all, she had been married to the most handsome man in her village and he ended up being a monster.

Almost reading his thoughts, Belle said, "I like it so much because the two fell in love in the dark. They didn't see each other's faces because they didn't need to. She fell in love with him for who he was inside."

Adam, seeing this new side to the story, suddenly brightened. Perhaps this was a sign. Maybe this was her way of telling him that his exterior didn't matter to her. Maybe she was telling him that she loved him for his heart.

...

That night, the two shared her bed again. Adam fell asleep sooner than Belle, and she took the opportunity to look at him. She studied his face, so peaceful in sleep. Lightly, she traced his eyebrows and he hummed quietly. She ghosted finger down his nose with a feather-light touch. Belle studied his horns and mouth, marveling at his huge teeth.

As she continued gazing at him, she began to think about what he had revealed when he was inebriated. When he had called her his, she had felt like she could walk on air, and it confused her. Adam was  _ her _ Beast so it made sense that she was his as well.

She smiled.  _ His _ beauty. She gently picked up one of his hands and turned it over, trying to study it from every angle she could. She looked at his massive paw, feeling the short fur that covered it.

She imagined it was a human hand, thinking of what it would be like if he had them. Would they by warm and soft or cool and rough. Would they be calloused or smooth?

She then studied his huge claws, running her fingertips over them. Accidentally, she pricked her index finger on one sharp claw and briefly imagined it was cupid's arrow.

...

Days passed in a similar fashion, them spending as much time together as they could, and many nights they continued to sleep together. One night, Adam awoke in distress. He felt something was wrong and he looked around the dark room.

His arm was around Belle and he held her close and made sure she was alright. She was fine, still asleep. Then the Beast realized that Belle was the one in distress. She held onto his arm so hard he was certain that if he were a man, it would hurt.

She mumbled something after a moment, revealing bits and pieces of her dream. She said the Adam's name many times, each with a small smile on her face, and he couldn't help but grin. Then she said something that startled him.

"Please don't leave me..." He checked once more to make certain that she was still asleep and upon discovering her eyes were still closed, he smiled broadly. She was his, and she never wanted him to leave. He stroked her face with his thumb, unable to stop his tender smile.

She said one more thing before Adam fell asleep, and it made him the happiest man to ever roam the earth. "My Beast."

...

Adam said nothing of Belle's one sided conversation in the middle of the night, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. He made sure they never slept in separate rooms, just in case she wanted to continue their talk in her dreams.

Adam felt like flying. He grew more and more confident that he was not the only one with feelings deeper than just friendship. Belle had always been his in his mind, but knowing he was also hers made him want to walk on water.

One night, while Adam had been dreaming about flowers of all things, he awoke with the scent of roses haunting his nose. He took a deep breath, immediately soothed at the smell.

He laid there a moment and tried to get back to sleep but soon realized his efforts were futile so he accepted his sleepless night. He thought about getting up to read or something but his arm was wrapped tightly around Belle and he didn't want to risk waking her.

With his free hand, the one that wasn't holding her to him, he stroked her hair as his fully awake mind played with his memories. He remembered the first time they had met. Belle was never afraid and looked at him with only curiosity, not fear.

He remembered how surprised yet pleased he had been when he found out she loved to read. It proved that she was more than just a pretty face. His memories flooded through him as emotion washed over him. His anger with himself when he scared her off. His fear when she wouldn't wake up after she fell through the ice. His pure, unadulterated rage when he saw that man take advantage of her. His bliss when they first held hands.

At that moment, while tenderly stroking her hair, he realized he had loved her for a long time now and it was time to admit it to himself, even though he never would to her. He fingered her soft curls one last time before finally closing his eyes as a content, dreamless sleep overtook him.

...

The next night, they read again, this time a book about a handsome knight who had fallen in love with the fairest maiden in the land.

Belle read about the brave knight. He was handsome, and confident, and strong; the perfect specimen of a man. The book told the story of how he had first laid eyes on the maiden, marched over to her, and confidently asked if he could have this dance.

"He sounds quite charming," the Beast said bitterly.

"I guess. If that's the kind of person you like.” She paused, mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Personally, I prefer a man to be sweet and shy and caring." She began to lean in as she said this, unaware that her body was moving. "Someone who cares about me and what I have to say. Someone who can be strong yet gentle."

Their faces were now inches apart and Belle, suddenly becoming aware of their proximity, leaned back and turned once more to the book. Adam felt the loss but said nothing.

Belle continued to read, describing the fair maiden whose beauty surpassed all. She was shy and delicate, and didn't speak much as a lady should. She wasn't very intelligent and her sole purpose was to make sure her husband, the handsome knight, was always happy.

"She sounds quite charming," Belle said, giving Adam a teasing yet sad smile.

"I guess. If that's the kind of person you like," replied the Beast, smiling down at Belle.

Belle looked into his blue eyes, so open.

"Personally, I prefer a girl who isn't afraid to speak her mind. One who enjoys books as much as I do. One who can beat me over and over at chess." He began to lean towards her, searching her face, as he continued. "I like someone who I can speak freely to, and who I can trust will speak freely in return. Someone like-" but then he stopped, swiftly bringing his mouth to Belle's as he tentatively touched her lips with his own.


	20. Drowning in You

Belle felt fire spreading through her body from her mouth. She had never in her life kissed someone back and it was truly spectacular.

She briefly remembered the times Gaston had forced his mouth upon hers. He was anything but gentle and Belle often ended with her lips bruised and swollen. His kisses had not been out of love; they were born of lust.

But Adam's kiss... it was soft and tender. He was so gentle, as though mentally prepared for the moment to end and her to shove him off. It didn't last long for he quickly pulled back, embarrassed by his sudden decision.

He looked at his hands in his lap. "I'm sorry... I don't know what came over me."

He began to continue, worrying that Belle had been too embarrassed to push him off or something, such was his low self esteem, but Belle simply smiled and shook her head, breathing rapidly. Without warning, Belle felt a sudden burst of confidence and desire and she placed a hand on the back of Adam's neck and yanked him closer to her, pressing her mouth once again against his.

The Beast's eyes widened for a moment before he relaxed and placed a large hand in her hair, stroking gently. Fireworks exploded beneath Adam's eyelids and he succumbed to his immense emotions for this woman.

Each felt connected in an unbreakable way, but eventually they pulled apart from each other. The air of the library was tense and electric, as though what had been building for so long had finally broken the dam. 

Belle was flushed, with embarrassment or simply the heat of the moment, Adam wasn't sure. Neither wanted to break the silence, so they sat there by the fire, saying nothing, not wanting to shatter their moment.

...

Eventually, the exhaustion became to much and they both made their way to Belle's bedroom, neither wanting to part from the other. The held hands, and the Beast softly rubbed Belle's knuckles.

They climbed into bed, and Adam put a protective arm around Belle. They laid staring into each other's eyes, and Adam, in a gentlemanly gesture, brought Belle's hand up to his lips, never breaking eye contact.

"Adam?" Belle asked quietly and the Beast let out a sleepy hum.

“Mmhm?”

"You’re my best friend… just wanted to make sure you know."

The Beast smiled and kissed Belle lightly on the forehead. Some time later, Adam whispered, "Belle?"

"Mmm?" she replied, keeping her eyes closed.

"I'd be a beast for the rest of my life if it meant I could spend one day with you."

Belle kept her eyes closed and said nothing. With a feather light touch, she brought her lips to his and fell asleep seconds later.

...

"Good morning, Belle," Adam said quietly, kissing her lightly on the nose.

Belle giggled at the tickling sensation, so deliciously happy for some inexplicable reason.

"Good morning."

"I was wondering if you would like to do something different today, something I used to do with Amelia when we were younger, and now I want to do it with you."

"Okay, what is it?"

"Belle, do you know how to swim?"

...

The Beast planned their whole day out. He knew the best path to get to the lake and brought a blanket and basket of food for a picnic. He wore a loose shirt and soft shorts that would dry quickly, while Belle wore a long gown for swimming that covered much of her body, as was proper.

The two ate and spoke about the weather and the nature that surrounded them. Each admired the many birds and wildflowers that could be seen near the lake. When they had finished their meal, Adam stood up and took her hand, looking like a boy trying chocolate for the first time.

"Are you ready?"

Belle laughed and nodded, standing up and not letting go of his hand. The couple ran into the warm water and began the jovial swim together. Adam took off his shirt soon after, finding the material too restricting.

He threw it back on the bank, then ran into the water, splashing Belle purposely in the process. Belle mock-glared at him and splashed him back. Adam sputtered, pretending to be outraged, and quickly dove into the water, swimming towards Belle.

He was fast, much faster than her, especially since the material of her long dress held her back so much. He caught her quickly, picking her up and dunking her under the water. She came up to the surface laughing.

"Wait, just a moment, Adam," she said, stepping out of the lake. "Turn around for a second, please." Adam was confused but he obeyed without delaying.

"What is it, Belle?" he asked, puzzled and worried he had hurt her. 

"Give me a moment."

On the bank, Belle undressed until she was in only her under clothes. She pulled on the wet shirt on the ground for some semblance of modesty, but she was so tired of that unrelenting dress.

The shirt was much too big for her and it came down almost to her knees. Adam had seen her before, she comforted herself. He had barged into her room one morning and saw her in nothing but panties, so this had to be okay. Granted, her back had been to him, but still.

"Ok," she called to Adam, quickly re-entering the water.

The Beast turned around and saw Belle's dress abandoned on the bank. He looked over to her, almost afraid she would be wearing nothing, but was relieved and somewhat disappointed to find out she was still clothed.

His mouth dropped a bit at the sight of her long, lean legs. She ran back over to him and splashed him in the face, bringing him back to his senses. She then quickly swam away, squealing when he once again grabbed her around the waist from behind.

"Did you really think wearing this," he said, grabbing the part of her shirt that floated on the surface, "would make you faster than me?"

Belle giggled, squirming in his iron grasp. He suddenly devoured her neck hungrily before turning her around and giving her a playful kiss on the mouth. The kiss instantly deepened as Belle threw her arms around his neck while his held her waist. Just as they were both running out of breath, Belle splashed him again, and swam as fast as she could towards the bank.

...

Belle and the Beast dried off and once again laid on the blanket as the sun set in front of them.

Out of the blue, Adam took Belle's hand and kissed her palm, before placing it over his heart. Belle could feel it beating rapidly beneath her fingers, and she smiled knowing it beat for her.

"What am I thinking right now?" Adam asked Belle quietly.

"Hmm,” she began, smirking playfully. “Well, you're thinking it's kind of cold. You're thinking that the sunset is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. And you're thinking, 'Belle wears this shirt better than I do. I should let her keep it,'" she said playfully.

"While two of those things are true, they were not what I was thinking. I was thinking I couldn't be any warmer, lying here with you.  _ You _ are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen and the sunset is a distant second. But mostly I was thinking about how lucky I was to get you."

"Oh really? You think luck truly exists?"

Adam hesitated a moment, considering. "I didn’t used to think so. But then I met you. How else can you explain something like me getting a girl like you?"

Belle blushed and smiled up at the Beast, taking his hand and placing it on her heart. "You don't need luck to get me. You're heart was enough."

...

That night, Belle and her Beast laid in their bed, Belle's head laying softly on the Beast's chest. They entwined their hands and Belle lifted both of them, examining them from every angle.

"What's your worst fear?" Belle asked suddenly, slicing through the building silence.

Adam hesitates a moment, considering the question that had so many potential answers. "I'm afraid of a lot of things. I was afraid of my father. I'm afraid of myself, who I was and what I did. But my worst fear now... my worst fear by far would be losing you."

They sat in the heavy silence for a moment, processing the depth of the words.

"I'm afraid, too, Adam,” Belle whispered quietly, the darkness making her brave and the secrets seem less exposing. “I'm afraid of how different I was, well, am. I'm afraid that someday you're going to wake up one day and realize that I'm not worth it."

Adam tightened his arms around her, trying to put into action what he could not convey in words. "That could never happen. I've told you a thousand times... you're perfect the way you are and I’m so sorry that man made you feel any less than."

She burrowed deeper into his chest and revelled in the instinctive tightening of his arms. "There is something I never told you…” she began quietly, her face muffled in his chest. “When I was married to Gaston... he didn't only force me to be with him. He made me pleasure many of his friends at the bar..."

"I’m so sor-"

"Wait, there's more… I’m sorry, I just need to get this out. I've never found any  _ pleasure _ with doing that thing. That's one of the reason's I'm so odd... I don't, you know, enjoy something every person should."

Adam shook his head incredulously.

"Belle, when people... are intimate... when it's not with the right person and it’s not consensual, of  _ course _ it's not pleasurable. I don't know how to explain it but what those men did to you was rape. Making love is different. That's what people find pleasurable. That's when you are intimate with someone you love inside and out," Adam said, squeezing Belle's hand.

Belle sat up slightly and gave him a small kiss on the chest. "Thank you," she whispered after a moment, and the two fell asleep, hands interlocking and Belle's head on his chest. 


End file.
